For the Children
by Deana
Summary: Carson, John, and Rodney go back to planet M7G677 when the inhabitants need a doctor. Of course though, our three heroes end up desperately needing saving...but are trapped on the planet when the Gate malfunctions. Whump! No slash
1. Is There a Doctor in the House

**For the Children  
**A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own any SGA characters. (boo hoo)

Sequel to the Season 1 episode, 'Childhood's End'. For those who don't remember, it was the ep where they found a planet with no one over age 24. On the eve of their 25th birthday, they had to kill themselves, twistedly thinking that the wraith will leave them alone. Keras, the current 'leader', was supposed to kill himself that night. It turned out the wraith don't come because there's a shield around the village that protects them. The suicides were actually initiated in order to control the population, so that no one goes outside the shield.

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"Hey, Carson?"

The CMO of Atlantis looked up from his microscope, to see John Sheppard walk into the infirmary. "Aye? What injury have ya done yerself _this_ time?"

John put on an innocent look. "Who me? Nothing!"

"Good," Carson said, not disguising his relief. "What can I do fer ya, then?"

John seemed to hesitate. "Uh…you feel like going on a little trip?"

Carson blinked. "Trip? Off-world?"

John nodded. "Yeah. I know you don't enjoy it, but remember the planet we went to last week with all the kids? They just contacted us. Looks like we gave some of them a bug and they don't know how to treat it."

Those words created a fascinating change in the doctor. He immediately stood and shrugged off his lab coat. "When do we leave?"

John smiled. Good ol' Carson. "As soon as you're ready."

"Symptoms?"

"Sounds like chickenpox to me," John told him. "They're covered in spots and have fevers, that sort of thing."

"Poor buggers," Carson said, crossing to a large cabinet. He started muttering to himself as he took out various medicines.

"I'll meet you in the Jumper Bay," John said.

Carson nodded, quickly placing the drug bottles in a large case.

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When Carson reached the Jumper Bay, he spotted one of the ships with its door wide open. Motioning to the nurse who'd helped him carry his supplies, he quickly headed over to it.

John, apparently spotting them, came out of the ship and jogged over to help. He took the packs from the nurse.

"Thanks, Angela," Carson said to her.

"Anytime, doctor," she said with a smile, blushing as she turned and left the bay.

Noticing the blush, John's eyebrows shot up and he watched her go. As he expected, she looked back at them over her shoulder. When she saw that she was caught, she turned and all but fled.

John looked at Carson, smirking. "Humm?" he said.

Carson rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it's just a crush."

John chuckled, carrying the packs into the ship.

Minutes later, they were ready, and John fired up the Jumper, lowering it into the Gate Room.

Carson swallowed nervously as they descended. _I'm doin' this for kids…for kids…stop being a baby, they need help…kids…_

"Doc?"

Carson jumped, startled. He'd been staring at the Gate as it dialed. He didn't like the vertigo that going through it caused him. No one else complained of ill effects, so he'd never said anything, preferring to simply stay in Atlantis whenever possible.

Of course, considering that he'd already been through it more times than he'd ever planned to, it seemed that he'd better get used to the darn thing, for his own good.

"Ready?" John asked.

Carson half nodded, half shook his head.

John chuckled, as the wormhole came to life.

1.4 seconds later, they emerged into the open sky of planet M7G-677.

Carson, having reflexively closed his eyes, made the mistake of opening them immediately. The view out the windshield made the vertigo even worse, and he might've fallen out of his chair if not for the seatbelts.

"See, doc, that wasn't so bad," said John, looking at him. He frowned at the sight of his friend's pale face. "Or was it?"

Carson repeatedly blinked his eyes. "Now ya know why I can't stand the bloody thing! It makes m'head spin!"

John made a face. "That's weird."

Carson nodded, instantly regretting it. "Aye."

"Sorry doc—"

"Don't apologize," Carson said, his vision righting itself. "It's for the children."

John nodded, his building respect for Carson Beckett going up a notch.

Carson watched the scenery, starting to enjoy himself. All too soon, the Jumper started to land...in the middle of nowhere. "Why're we stoppin' here?" he asked.

"There's a shield that protects them from the wraith," John told him. "It's what made the Jumper crash when we came here that day."

Carson had forgotten that part. "Oh."

"Yup," said John, as they touched down. "We walk from here."

Carson stood and went to the back of the Jumper, picking up his packs. John joined him, and they left the ship.

The temperature was pleasant, but the packs were heavy, so Carson hoped that the walk wouldn't be too long. About ten minutes later, someone running could be heard in the woods before them.

Carson stopped. "Y'hear that?"

John nodded. "Kids."

Suddenly, a little girl came flying from around a tree. She was crying.

John knelt, to make it easier to talk to her, and was shocked when she threw her arms around him at full speed, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Where's Rodney!" she cried.

Carson almost did a double-take. "Rodney?"

The little girl sniffed, pulling back and looking up. "Rodney…the mean one who yelled at us."

Carson looked at John.

"Well…" John said, awkwardly patting her back as she sniffled. "Rodney isn't here, he's at home."

"Can he come?" she asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Uh," John answered. He tried to change the subject. "Where's your friend?" he asked, remembering a certain little boy that was always seen with her.

The girl started to cry again. "My brother. He's sick. We want Rodney."

John looked up at Carson, pleading for help in dealing with the child.

Carson unslung the packs from his shoulders, kneeling beside her. "There now, lassie, I'm a doctor, and have come ta help. What's yer name?"

"Cleya."

"Ah, a bonnie name." He smiled. "How old are ya?"

"S-seven," she said, scrubbing the tears from her face.

"Seven! Well, growin' inta a fine young lady, ya are." He held out his hand. "Come with us, we'll take ya home an' see ta yer brother."

The little girl took his hand, and Carson's smile faded. He pulled her arm closer and studied it.

John immediately saw what he was looking at.

A cluster of little red dots.

"How long have ya had these, Cleya?" Carson asked, placing a hand on her forehead.

She sniffed. "Dunno. Today. They're all over Casta! Can you get them off us? Please?"

"Of course I will, love, but it might take a little time." He watched as she yawned. "Sleepy, are ya?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes.

Carson reached out and lifted her, standing.

Cleya didn't protest in the least, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. "Can Rodney come?" she mumbled.

"Well find out fer ya, lass," Carson said, awkwardly bending to grab his packs, intending to sling them both over his other shoulder.

John handed him one, but kept the other.

"Thanks," Carson said, amazed at the Major's strength as he carried not only a pack on his back and one on each shoulder, but now one of Carson's as well.

They walked for another twenty minutes or so before they came upon more children and young adults. They were all very glad to see the Atlantis men, and led them the rest of the way.

Children played outside the huts, and many of them stopped at the sight of John and Carson. Some of them happily rushed over.

"Where is Keras?" John asked them. He had a feeling of what the answer was.

"He's sick," a few of the kids said.

"Can you take us to him?" John asked.

The crowd of kids started to herd them in the right direction, but Carson stopped.

"I think someone should show me where Cleya lives first," he said, noting that the girl had fallen asleep on his shoulder. "I'll catch up ta ya," he told John.

Sheppard nodded, and they were both taken in different directions.

John was led into a hut, where he heard the sound of coughing. Laying on a pile of furs was the young man, and he looked up as they entered.

"John," Keras said. He smiled. "Thank you for returning. I did not know what else to do, we know of no one else who can help us."

John waved his hand in an 'anytime' gesture. "No problem, we were happy to come back." He saw Keras' arm still in its sling, from the arrow wound he'd received that day. "How's the arm?"

"Mending," Keras said. He pulled up his sleeves. "Though it is now covered in spots."

John nodded at the sight. "It's what we call 'chickenpox'. On my planet, every child caught it, before a vaccine was developed."

Keras made a face. "I'm not a child."

John smiled. "True. Adults can get it too. It's just that most people catch it by age 12. Speaking of ages, how does it feel to be 25?"

Keras smiled. "Like nothing no one else in my village can imagine."

"Literally," said John. "Has everyone accepted the fact that no one has to kill themselves at age 24 anymore?"

"I hope so," Keras said. "I plan to speak privately to everyone who is near that age, to assure them that there is no longer any reason for such action."

John nodded. "Good."

Keras coughed again, shifting miserably.

"Take it easy," John said. "I'll go see what's keeping the doc."

Keras nodded, and John left the hut.

Not spotting Carson anywhere, John walked around looking for him, before finally seeing him coming out of a hut ahead of him.

The doctor saw him, and made his way over. "Poor little things. They're still callin' for Rodney." He blinked. "How strange."

John chuckled. "Those two wouldn't leave him alone almost the whole time we were here, despite how much he yelled at them. It was funny."

Carson chuckled.

Before the doctor began his examinations, he had John separate all the infants and pregnant young women away from any sick people, less the illness cause them serious danger. Carson examined them first, giving them all the chickenpox vaccine, inwardly hoping that it wasn't already too late.

Night had long-since fallen by the time they'd finished examining the entire village, and John finally had a moment to run an errand.

"What?!" Rodney said, through the Jumper radio. "They're asking for _me_? Are you kidding?"

John shook his head. "Nope. They said, and I quote, 'we want Rodney!'"

Silence.

"Come on, McKay, aren't you interested in comforting sick little children who looooove you?" He deliberately drew out the word, inwardly getting a laugh at McKay's expense.

"No!" Rodney said. "I'm not interested in _anything_ to do with someone's who's sick!"

John rolled his eyes. "You had chickenpox, right?"

"Of course."

"Then you have nothing to worry about!"

Rodney grumbled.

"I'll meet you at the Gate in twenty minutes," John said.

"Oh come on, at least let me sleep in my comfortable bed tonight," said Rodney. "I have some stuff to do anyway…I'll come in the morning."

"Promise?"

"_Promise_?! I think you've been hanging around those rugrats for too long, Sheppard."

John chuckled. "I'll be at the Gate at 0900; you better be there. Oh, and bring chocolate."

"Chocolate?!"

"Yup, they asked for that too. Don't forget it."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Rodney sighed, and signed off.

TBC


	2. Rodney, Chocolate, and Measles, Oh My!

Hey everyone! Here's chapter two...there's some interesting developments in this one! Enjoy! ;)

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"Roooooooodney!"

Carson looked up from his pack, where he'd been taking out needles to gather the children's blood samples. The voice belonged to Cleya, and he went outside.

The sight that greeted him was one that he'd remember for the rest of his life.

Rodney McKay was kneeling on the ground while a child hugged him. He didn't look very happy about it, especially at the sight of red dots all over said child, but he somehow managed to ignore himself and let the little girl have the hug that she wanted so badly.

Besides, it warmed his heart. He was careful not to let John and Carson see that, though.

"You came!" Cleya exclaimed, right into his ear.

Rodney winced, but nodded, forcing a smile onto his face. "Yup, and I brought you this." He held up a chocolate bar.

Cleya squealed.

"What're ya doin' outta bed, lassie?" Carson asked, walking over to them.

"Rodney came!"

"I can see that," the doctor said, with a smile at Rodney, who rolled his eyes. "But ya need ta stay in bed." He felt her forehead, finding her fever a little higher than yesterday. "We'll let Rodney take ya there and tuck ya in, but then I need ta talk ta him fer a while."

"Okay," she said, taking Rodney's hand, who made a face at Carson as she led him away.

"He's gonna get you for that," John said, holding out the pack of supplies that Rodney had brought.

"I know," Carson said. They went back into their hut to unpack it.

A few minutes later, Rodney returned. "I'm gonna get you for that, Carson!" he exclaimed.

"Have a heart, Rodney!" Carson said, turning to look at him. "A sick child, with no parents…she probably saw ya as some kinda father figure or somethin'."

"Well why did she pick _me_?!"

"We'll probably _never_ know," said John.

Rodney shot him a glare, taking that for the insult that it was.

John shot him an innocent grin.

Carson started quietly talking to himself as he took things out of the pack.

"You know what they say about people who do that," said Rodney.

"What, unload packs?"

"Talk to themselves! What _is_ this? I've been here for 10 minutes, and it's already become Annoy-Rodney-Day?"

"_Everyday_ is Annoy-Rodney-Day!" said John.

"Shut up," Rodney said, though they could see a hint of laughter in his eyes. "So what am I here for, anyway?"

"We figured you could use a vacation," said John.

"Yay," Rodney said. "Vacation in a hut surrounded by crazy sick kids who love me."

"Cleya really wanted to see you," said Carson, still looking through the pack. "Thanks, Rodney, ya brought everythin' I asked for."

"Of course I did," Rodney frowned when Carson let loose with a huge yawn. "Someone's tired."

"We were up all night," John said. "Taking care of the kids."

Rodney made a face. "That always happens. Why is that, Carson, that sicknesses always get worse at night?"

"Believe it or not, Rodney, many times it's actually an illusion."

"What?"

Carson nodded. "After being ill all day, the victim is exhausted, which makes them feel worse. Fevers go up, it seems harder to breathe. Because they feel worse, it's hard fer them ta get ta sleep, and even if they do, they end up wakin' up a lot, ta cough, and whatnot. By morning, they're so exhausted that they doze off from being up all night, then they might feel better in the afternoon from sleeping all morning. By nightfall, they're once again exhausted because they are, after all, sick, and the cycle repeats."

"Wow," was all that Rodney could say to that.

Carson yawned again.

"Someone needs a nap," Rodney said.

"Someone has no _time_ for a nap, but could use some food," Carson corrected.

Rodney held out a chocolate bar.

"Hey!" said John. "You wouldn't give _me_ one when _I_ asked!"

"You didn't ask nicely enough."

"Carson didn't ask at all!"

The doctor couldn't help but chuckle, taking the candy bar.

"Whiner," Rodney said, tossing one at the Major.

"Hrumph," said John, opening it and taking a huge bite.

Carson shoved the candy bar into his mouth whole, where it stuck out as he picked up a pack and slung it over his shoulder.

"Where you going?" Rodney asked.

"Bluf famfles," Carson said around the candy.

"Huh what?"

Carson took it out of his mouth. "Blood samples. I need samples." He yawned again.

"Geez," Rodney said, reaching up and grabbing his wrist, giving it a yank. "Sit down and eat first. Their blood isn't going anywhere."

Carson plopped into the chair, nearly dropping his candy bar. He opened his mouth to complain, but stopped himself. It _did_ feel good to be sitting.

"Earth to Carson," he suddenly heard, seeing a snapping finger in front of his face.

He jumped, startled. "Wha?!"

"You were staring into space," said Rodney. "Eat your candy bar."

Carson looked at it, seeing it still sitting in his hand.

"Did you have a long night before we came here?" John asked, finishing his own.

Carson nodded. "Aye."

"So last night made it two in a row? You need to get some sleep," John said. "You won't be able to take care of these kids if you can't keep your eyes open."

Carson nodded again. "I still need the samples."

"Get them later," Rodney said.

Carson shook his head. But he really didn't want to move. Sighing, he ate his candy bar, after which he nearly fell asleep in his chair again.

Suddenly, a cup appeared in front of his face. The wonderful aroma that invaded his senses had his eyes snap open. "Coffee!" he blurted, taking it from Rodney.

"Yup, special Atlantis blend, perfect for half-asleep doctors."

Carson smiled, sipping it with an, 'mmm'.

"He needs sleep, not caffeine," said John, yawning himself.

"And here's some for you too," said Rodney, handing him a mug.

John drank it eagerly.

The sugar from the chocolate and caffeine from the coffee provided Carson with the boost that he needed, and he eventually stood. "Gonna get those samples," he said.

"Need any help?" John asked.

"Probably not. Take a nap. If I need help, I'll send someone for Rodney."

The scientist rolled his eyes. "Oh great."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson _did_ eventually need Rodney, for many of the children were afraid of the needle and needed someone to calm them as Carson worked. Rodney wasn't really the best man for the job, but he was certainly better than nothing.

It ended up taking hours, for Carson also had to doctor some of the kids who were sicker and uncomfortable. When he finally made it back to the hut, it was 3pm. He sat the pack of blood samples down on the table, and looked longingly at the pile of soft furs in the corner.

John was snoring on a similar pile nearby, and Rodney was gone, possibly being pestered by more children.

_I'll just take a wee nap,_ Carson said, unable to keep his eyes open anymore. He lay down on the furs, and went out like a light.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Carson? Carson, wake up."

The sudden voice and motion of being shaken woke Carson from a deep sleep. He blinked blearily at Rodney in the candlelit darkness before the events suddenly came back to him and he sat up. "What is it?"

"Cleya needs you," Rodney said, urgently. "Her fever spiked and I don't know what to do…well, I _know_ what to do, wet cloths and all that, but she started crying and I figured maybe she needs medicine, which I need you for, and…"

Carson was up by then, grabbing the pack that contained all the drugs. He looked at the flustered Rodney for a minute. "Ya tried ta take care o' her yaself?"

"Well, yeah," Rodney said, as they walked to the door.

Carson noticed as they left that John was gone. "Where's…"

"Looking in on some of the kids," Rodney said. "We didn't want to wake you if we could do it all ourselves."

Carson smiled at that. He was surprised to find it pitch-black as they walked outside. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was 9pm. "I slept fer six hours!"

Rodney shrugged. "You needed it."

Carson couldn't deny that, and they quickly reached Cleya's hut.

The little girl was sniffling, being hugged by her brother who was still covered in spots himself.

"She's real hot Doctor Carson!" Casta said.

"Don't worry, son, she'll be all right," Carson told him. He knelt beside the lump of furs, watching as Cleya turned and held her arms up to Rodney.

To Carson's surprise, Rodney sat beside her after a slight hesitation, where she then laid her head on his lap.

At Carson's expression, Rodney shot him a look that plainly said, _'shut up'_.

Wisely obeying, the doctor set to work making his patient more comfortable.

John eventually found them there, and didn't disguise his own look of surprise at Rodney's position. His expression turned to a devious smile, and Rodney sighed, knowing that he was in for some ribbing.

When they finally left, Carson said to John, "Well, lad, I hear ya were practicing medicine without a license! How'd ya do?"

"One second," John said. He whacked Rodney's arm. "I knew it."

"Don't start," Rodney answered.

"I knew the kid would grow on you!"

"She did _not_."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too!"

Carson shook his head, with a laugh. "Who are the children here?" He quickly changed the subject. "Where did ya leave off with the patients?"

"Checked on all of them, doc. No emergencies…yet, anyway."

Carson's eyebrows shot up. "Did ya, now? Well…thanks." He yawned.

"I think more sleep is in order," John said. "There are a few more kids who started to develop spots, so tomorrow will be another busy day."

Carson sighed. "I knew that the vaccine we gave them would be too late fer some."

They entered the hut, and Carson saw his pack of blood samples. "I need ta check those."

"In the dark?" said Rodney. He motioned to the lit candles scattered through the hut. "Somehow I don't think those will be good enough to see what you need to see. Do it tomorrow."

Carson sighed. He really wanted to check them, having a few suspicions in his mind. He knew that Rodney was right though…he could miss something without adequate light. "Yer right." He headed to his pile of furs, and lay down.

John did the same on his own.

"I'm, uh, gonna stay up for a while," said Rodney. "I didn't lose sleep like you guys did."

Carson nodded, eyes already closed.

What seemed to only be a minute later, Carson opened his eyes at the sound of a thump. He saw John standing next to the table, having bumped into it apparently on his way back to his fur pile.

John saw Carson's eyes open, and realized that he'd woken him. "Sorry." Suddenly his face brightened. "Since you're awake, you have _got_ to see something! Come on."

Curious, Carson stood and followed.

John led him to Cleya's hut. As they reached it, John held up a finger in the 'shh' gesture, and quietly pulled up a corner of the door.

Carson had noticed that Rodney wasn't around, and when he peeked inside the hut, he saw exactly what he'd suspected.

Rodney McKay, certified disliker of children, sat on the floor next to Cleya's bed, gently rewetting the cloth on her forehead while the child hugged his left hand. There was a smile on her face, and she giggled when a drop of water dripped onto her nose.

Rodney chuckled and wiped it off.

The delighted smile on Carson's face felt like it was gonna split his head in half. He looked at John, who wore the same expression.

They watched for a few minutes, knowing that they'd probably never see such a sight again. When Rodney started to turn in their direction for some reason, John dropped the cloth and they quickly sprinted away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Carson didn't feel as rested as he'd hoped. After making the rounds, he grabbed some coffee and sat down to study the blood samples. John returned to the Jumper to give Dr. Weir an update, and Rodney went with him, eager to get away from the village for a while.

When they returned, they found a very nervous Carson anxiously waiting for them.

"Did either of ya go through the Gate?" he asked, his tone high-strung.

John frowned. "No…why?"

Carson sighed deeply, with relief.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

Carson looked at them. "We have a serious problem."

"What?" said Rodney. "_Tell_ us, already!"

Carson sighed. "I've been thinkin' that the children's spots don't look like chickenpox. The symptoms are right, but the spots aren't. Do either of ya remember when ya had chickenpox? The spots are blisters that break. These children here have what's more like a spotty rash, as ya can see, and the spots are staying closed. So I ran some tests on their blood…"

John frowned. "Are you telling us that it's _not_ chickenpox?"

Carson nodded. "Aye, I am."

"So what is it, then?!" Rodney exclaimed, nervously.

"According ta the tests," said Carson. "It's measles."

"Measles?!" Rodney exclaimed.

Carson nodded. "Aye." He hesitated. "We have another problem though."

"What?" John asked.

With a sigh, Carson pulled up his left jacket sleeve.

His arm had the same rash as the children.

TBC  
(drumroll...lol!)


	3. Sniffle Sniffle Cough Cough

The sight of measles-spots on Carson's arm was the last thing anyone expected to see.

"What?!" Rodney exclaimed. "How can you have measles, Carson! Didn't they give you a vaccine when you were a kid?!"

"Of course!" Carson exclaimed. "But there are many known cases where the immunity wore off."

"So I might get it too?!" Rodney exclaimed, panicking. "Great! Thanks SO much for bringing me here!!" He started pacing in circles.

Carson sighed, lifting a hand to tiredly rub his face.

"Shut up, Rodney!" John exclaimed. He took Carson's arm and led him to a chair. "Sit."

Carson obeyed, his posture slumped.

Rodney followed. "Shouldn't you lie down?" he asked, concerned for his friend now that his panic had come and gone.

"This doesn't make sense, ya know," Carson said.

"What doesn't?" John asked.

"I hadn't considered measles at first, because with that disease, other symptoms manifest days _before_ the rash; cough, runny nose, high fever. With chickenpox—and with these children—the rash came first."

"And with _you_ too," Rodney pointed out.

Carson nodded. "Aye. Also, the measles rash always begins on the face, not the arms. Only _some_ of the kids have anythin' on their faces. Yet, the tests still indicate measles. This can only mean one thing; the strain must have mutated, since these children are of a different race."

"That could also be why _you_ caught it," said John. "Maybe the measles vaccine that we all had doesn't protect against this new strain."

Carson nodded. "Very possible."

"Oh _man_," said Rodney. "We're screwed! Can you test my blood to see if _I_ caught it too?"

Carson sighed. "That's the other oddity. Measles is supposed ta take much longer than this ta incubate after exposure before symptoms actually show." He shook his head.

John and Rodney said nothing for a minute, each of them in shock over the suddenly changed—and more perilous—situation.

"I'm surprised that you actually told us that you caught it," Rodney said. "I mean, I figured you'd keep working and working and we wouldn't find out until you suddenly collapse or something."

Carson sighed. "I'm sure ya've heard that chickenpox is more dangerous in adults? Well, measles is too, and with this possibly being a mutated form...well, ya needed ta know now, so ya would know what ta do in case…in case something happens ta me."

The implications of his statement were terrifying.

"Carson," John said, bending over to look him in the eye. "Are you telling us that this could _kill_ you?!"

Carson closed his eyes. "Well…in adults, measles can lead ta complications; usually respiratory, like pneumonia, but it can also cause seizures or encephalitis, which is deadly…"

Meanwhile, Rodney was panicking again.

"What _do_ we do in case something happens to you?!" the scientist exclaimed. "We're not doctors! What do we _do_, Carson? And what if _we_ catch it!!"

John grabbed his shoulder. "Stop it!" he yelled. "Panicking won't help anything!"

Carson rubbed his temples. "Not so loud," he said, softly.

John looked back at Carson and let go of McKay. He placed his hand on the doctor's forehead to check for fever. "A little warm," he said. "How do you feel? Is there anything we can do?"

Carson sighed and opened his eyes. "I'm not sure yet, I need ta think. We need ta give the still-healthy kids measles vaccines ta stop the spread of this disease."

"But you said it doesn't protect against this mutated form!" Rodney said.

"No, I said it _might_ not…it's possible that I only caught it because my own vaccination wore off. There are still measles cases on Earth every year. It doesn't spread like the flu because most vaccinations remain effective."

"So…if our vaccines _haven't_ wore off," Rodney said, indicating himself and John. "Then we might not catch it?"

Carson nodded.

Rodney physically deflated. "_Phew_."

John almost told him not to get his hopes up yet, but changed his mind. A relieved McKay was much easier to deal with than a panicked McKay. "Thank God you decided to give the kids other shots." He looked at Rodney. "When you came, you brought the measles vaccine with you."

Rodney nodded, relieved. "I know." He winced. "Another needle…these kids are gonna flip."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rodney was right; many of the children did indeed 'flip' at the thought of another needle. When told that it might stop them from getting sick like the others, though, they reluctantly allowed it.

Carson worked relentlessly, aware that he might soon be flat on his back. He had no idea how this disease would affect him; bad enough that it was a mutated strain, plus with him being of a different race than these children, and an adult, to boot. The complications in adults that he'd told Rodney about were very true…with this new strain, he wondered if there could be others.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't afraid.

By nightfall, his headache was joined by a runny nose and a tickle in his throat. He felt like crap.

"You look like crap," said Rodney.

Carson didn't answer as they entered the hut. He sat down heavily, sighing as he scrubbed his hands across his face.

John went over to the packs and took out some MRE's. He held them out, giving Carson first choice.

"Not hungry," the doctor mumbled.

"Oh gimme a break, Carson," Rodney said. "As a doctor, you're the _first_ person to know that you need to eat. Look!" He grabbed one and waved it under Carson's nose. "Cheese ravioli!"

"Later," Carson said, rubbing his forehead.

"Lie down, then," said John.

Carson lowered his hand and shook his head. "If I do that, I'm not gettin' back up."

"That's kinda the idea," John told him.

Carson sighed and pulled up his jacket sleeve, checking the status of his rash. All three of them were surprised to see it all the way up his forearm.

"Whoa!" said Rodney. "That spread fast."

Carson nodded. Faster than it had in the kids.

"Why don't you get some sleep," John said. "If any of the kids have a problem that we can't handle, we'll wake you. I swear."

Carson sighed again. He could hardly keep his eyes open; the fatigue brought on by this disease was more than he expected, considering that he'd only _just_ come down with it… "All right," he said, knowing that he had no choice. The strength had drained out of him so suddenly that he didn't even know if he'd make it to his 'bed'.

His two friends noticed that he apparently wasn't going anywhere without help, and each took one of his arms, pulling him out of the chair and bringing him over to his pile of furs. They lowered him down to a sitting position.

"Should you take any medicine before you go to sleep?" the Major asked.

Carson blinked, tiredly. "Aye…Tylenol might help."

"Tylenol?" Rodney said. "Don't you need _real_ drugs?!"

"There are no _real drugs_ that help measles," Carson told him. "It's a virus, so antibiotics don't do a thing fer it."

Rodney made a face. "That really stinks."

Carson nodded. "It does indeed."

John returned with the pills and some water, watching as the doctor swallowed them.

Carson handed the cup back and shifted to lie flat. He felt Rodney's arm slide under his shoulders, to guide him down. Once there, he blinked up at them.

Both John and Rodney stared at him, nervously.

Carson gave them a little smile, touched by their concern. "I'll be fine," he said. "No need ta worry." With that, he fell asleep.

"No need to worry, he says," Rodney whispered, sighing.

John had also brought back a bowl of water and a cloth, and he wet it and placed it on Carson's forehead.

"How sick do you think he'll get?" Rodney asked, anxiously. "Do you think he'll suffer any of the complications that he told us about?"

"Possibly, if he works himself to death," John answered. "We're gonna have to try to prevent that."

Rodney nodded, adjusting the cloth with a sigh.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson's sleep wasn't restful; he kept waking up coughing. Each time he opened his eyes, Rodney or John were there, either telling him to go back to sleep or giving him water.

At one point, around 4am, he woke himself up coughing again, and stayed awake for a few minutes.

"Do you need anything, Carson?" Rodney asked, seeing that he didn't fall back to sleep. "More water? Medicine?"

Carson looked at him, blinking blearily. It took a few seconds before he could remember what he wanted to ask. "Kids?"

"Doing fine," said Rodney. "We're taking turns between them and you."

"You need sleep too," he mumbled, eyes closing.

"I know," Rodney said. "When I stay in here with you, I sleep—until your coughing wakes me up, that is—and then John will do the same."

Carson blinked his eyes open again, trying to fight it, for some reason. "Thanks, lad…"

Rodney smiled. "No problem. Go back to dreamland."

Carson closed his eyes, willingly obeying. When he opened them next—or when he _remembered_ opening them next—the hut was filled with daylight.

John was asleep on his pile of furs, and Rodney, obviously on 'Carson watch', was asleep sitting up nearby, leaning against the wall of the hut.

Carson had to cough, but he didn't want to wake them. He tried to breathe through his nose, to try to suppress the cough, but only one nostril was cooperating, and not very well. He turned over to cough into the furs, keeping as quiet as he could.

Neither Rodney nor John woke.

Relieved, he lay there limply, breathing through his mouth thanks to his uncooperating nose. Suddenly, though, he felt a little trickle from his right nostril, and realized that it was running.

Reaching over for the tissues that John had given him the night before, he wiped his nose, but it didn't help very much. He knew that if he blew his nose, he'd definitely wake them, so he settled for the only thing left.

He rolled up a corner of the tissue and shoved it up his nostril.

For some reason, fate chose to wake Rodney McKay at that very moment, and he blinked at Carson in shock, before laughing loudly.

John jumped a mile, turning over and sitting up. "What? McKay?" he said, his voice more awake than his brain.

"Look at Carson!" Rodney exclaimed.

John crawled over, his face showing concern until he saw what Rodney was laughing at. He couldn't help but laugh himself.

"What?" said Carson. "Don't tell me neither o' ya have never done this."

"I plead the 5th," John said.

Since they were awake, Carson could finally blow his nose, and he sat up and did just that.

"Whoa," he couldn't stop himself from saying, putting a hand on his head as everything spun for a minute.

"Take it easy," John said, putting a hand on his arm. "You had a pretty rough night."

"I'm okay," Carson said, tiredly.

Rodney felt his forehead. "Your fever seems lower," he said, surprised.

Carson nodded. "I feel better." It wasn't exactly the truth, but he had work to do. He stood.

"What are you doing?" John asked, standing too.

"I have work ta do."

"Carson…" said Rodney.

"Didn't ya ask me yesterday ta check ya blood fer the disease?" he asked. "How can I do that lyin' down?" He moved to the table, trying not to stumble.

Rodney and John looked at each other.

"Look, doc," said John. "I'm gonna go to the Jumper and tell Elizabeth the situation. She'll send some of your people in Hazmats, and then you can rest."

"Let me get yer blood sample before ya go," Carson said.

Obediently, John sat at the table and held out his arm.

Carson took the blood; trying to keep his shaky hands steady, to avoid hurting the Major.

John made no complaint.

Carson set the vial aside, before suddenly realizing something. "I need one o' ya ta get _my_ sample."

"Not me!" Rodney said.

"That's fine, lad, I'd trust the Major more anyway."

"Hey!"

"Well," said John, to Rodney. "I _am_ military. I've been trained with needles."

Carson nodded, handing him the syringe.

"Better you than me." Rodney watched as Carson sat down and pulled up his left sleeve. "Wow," the scientist said.

Carson sighed at the sight. The measles rash had encompassed almost his entire arm, as far up as they could see. He pulled his sleeve down and tried the other one.

His right arm wasn't as bad.

"I hate blood tests in this arm," he mumbled.

"Why?" John asked.

"I always get a bruise," Carson told him, as John tied the tourniquet. "I'd rather it _not_ be in the arm that I use the most."

John gave him a lopsided expression. "If I butcher you, sorry, in advance."

Carson smiled, but then a coughing fit seized him.

John waited until he was done, before bending down and concentrating, trying to ease the needle in as gently as possible.

Carson didn't flinch, to his credit.

John managed to get the vein on the first try, and he sighed with relief as blood started to fill the tube.

Carson reached over and removed the tourniquet, watching until John had enough blood. "That's good." He grabbed a cotton ball from the table.

John swiftly pulled out the needle, and Carson stuck the cotton over the tiny hole, pressing down firmly.

"Good job," Carson complimented him.

"Did it hurt?" John asked.

Carson shook his head. It wasn't quite the truth.

John looked skeptical, but smiled anyway. He patted the doctor on the shoulder. "I'll be back soon. Take it easy while I'm gone."

Carson nodded.

With that, John left the hut.

TBC


	4. Plop, Goes the Doctor

Hey everyone! I didn't realize it's been 8 days since I posted chapter 3. It took a reminder from twinchaosblade to get myself into gear! ;) Enjoy! Don't forget to review! ;)

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When John reached the Jumper, he quickly flew to the Gate, and dialed Atlantis.

"Hello John," Elizabeth said. "How is everything going over there?"

"Well," said John, with a sigh. "We have an unexpected situation. The kids don't have chickenpox after all, they have measles…and Carson caught it."

Elizabeth hesitated for a second. "What?" she exclaimed, shocked.

"It seems to be a new strain of measles," John told her. "And either Carson's vaccination wore off, or it's a strain that our human vaccine can't protect us against."

Elizabeth frowned. "If that's so, then all _three_ of you will catch it."

John sighed again. "Yeah. We were hoping to get some medical personnel over here as soon as possible, in Hazmat's."

"You got it," she answered. "How's Carson?"

"Got the measles rash all over his arms, and cold symptoms. He's still trying to work, so the sooner we get some people over here, the better. If this measles strain is one that our vaccines really don't work against, they might have to develop a new vaccine."

"They'll be there as soon as they're ready," Elizabeth said.

John nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Tell them to land their Jumper next to ours. If they keep flying, the shield that surrounds the village will make them crash. They'll find us after walking a couple miles."

"Right," Elizabeth said. "Keep us posted."

"I will. Sheppard out."

John shut down the Gate, and flew the Jumper back to its original position.

As he reached the hut that he shared with Carson and Rodney, John could hear the doctor coughing. He entered, to see Carson looking into his microscope at their blood samples.

Rodney was pacing, not looking happy.

"Find anything?" John asked.

"It's in my blood!" Rodney exclaimed.

"Aye," said Carson, wiping his nose on a tissue. "And it's in yours too, Major. But, it would be in your bloodstream even if your vaccinations still work."

Rodney stopped pacing. "Really? So this doesn't necessarily mean that we'll get sick?"

"Right. If yer vaccine is effective against this strain, then it'll show up in yer bloodstream while yer body fights it off…" Carson stood from his chair, but suddenly blinked his eyes and reeled sideways, crashing into the wall.

John and Rodney both dashed over, John succeeding in grabbing him before he fell. "Carson!"

The doctor's eyes were closed, his body completely limp.

They quickly dragged him over to the nearby 'bed' and deposited him on it gently. Rodney knelt beside him and grabbed his wrist to check his pulse, while John felt his forehead.

"Temp is up a little," John said.

"His pulse is fast, too."

A minute later, Carson stirred, eyebrows furrowing as a tiny sound slipped past his lips.

"Get him some water," John said.

Rodney stood and dashed off.

Carson blinked his eyes, peering at John under half-opened lids.

"I don't remember 'fainting' being on the list of symptoms," John said, concerned.

A slight smile lifted one corner of the doctor's mouth. "Didn't faint…passed out."

Rodney came back just in time to hear that, and couldn't help but laugh. That line was usually his or John's. "Drink this, you comedian."

John helped Carson sit up, and Rodney held the glass as he drank.

The doctor lifted a hand to the cup, and they could see it shaking.

"You can't keep up like this, Carson," Rodney said.

Carson sighed. "I had a blood pressure drop, that's all. Stood up too fast."

"Must've been a _long_ drop," said Rodney.

"Carson," John said. "Is it possible that this strain of measles is worse than the earth-borne strain?"

Carson sighed again, which made him cough. "It's possible," he said, a few seconds later.

Rodney shook his head. "We're _so_ dead."

John shot the scientist an exasperated look. "I told Elizabeth the situation, and she's sending a Jumper-full of medical personnel. They'll probably be here in an hour or two."

Carson nodded. "Good."

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Elizabeth watched as Jumper 2 hovered in front of the Stargate. When the Gate engaged but the wormhole didn't form, she turned. "What's wrong?"

The Gate technician shook his head. "I can't lower the shield!"

"What?" Elizabeth frowned and hurried over. She tried herself.

Nothing. The Gate stood as if frozen.

Elizabeth tapped her earpiece. "Weir to McKay," she said, before remembering that he was on the planet. "Dr. Zelenka," she said, instead.

"Yes?" she heard.

"I need you to come up here immediately; the Gate's shield won't go down."

"What?!"

"We have no time to lose," Elizabeth said. "We just tried to send medical personnel to John's team…I'll explain when you get here."

"All right, Zelenka out."

Elizabeth tapped her earpiece off. Turning to look at the Stargate again, she folded her arms nervously and sighed.

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A few hours later, John came back from checking on the kids, wondering where the Atlantis team was. He expected them to have been there by now.

Rodney was sitting on the floor near Carson, who was sleeping. There was a wet towel on his forehead.

"Is he all right?" John asked.

Rodney nodded, taking the towel and rewetting it. "Yeah. Just figured maybe this would prevent his fever from rising any higher."

Neither of them really expected it to work.

John nodded though, understanding Rodney's need to do something for his friend, especially after the scores of times—probably literally—Carson had cared for them.

Another hour passed without the arrival of the medical team, and John decided to find out why. "I'm going back to the Jumper," he told Rodney. "The team should've been here a long time ago."

Rodney nodded, looking worried.

John left, and the scientist sighed, watching Carson sleep.

The doctor's skin looked paler, and his breathing didn't seem very easy. He had a feeling that Carson would wake up coughing soon.

He was right. Less than five minutes later, the doctor's lungs woke him abruptly.

Rodney had a cup of water at the ready, waiting for his friend to stop coughing. It definitely was sounding worse, and the scientist's anxiety level rose. "Here, Carson, drink this."

The doctor obeyed, reaching out for it and downing the whole thing. He reached for the tissue box and blew his nose, before groaning, eyes still closed.

He didn't look very steady, so Rodney put a hand on his arm. "You okay?"

Carson opened his eyes. "M'head is throbbin'. Blowin' me nose wasn't a good idea."

"Lie back down," Rodney said, trying to push him flat again.

"The kids," Carson answered, resisting.

"All taken care of. Some of them are getting better, you know."

"Good," Carson said. "Thanks, Rodney."

The scientist shook his head, feeling undeserving of gratitude. "No need for that, it's time someone helped _you_ for a change."

Carson looked at him, surprised at the unexpected—though true—statement. He suddenly noticed that they were alone in the hut. "Where's the Major?"

"On his way to call Atlantis again. He thinks the medical team should've been here by now."

"Oh," Carson said, frowning.

"Don't start worrying," said Rodney. "I'm sure there's a reason for the delay."

Carson's answer was a cough.

"Lie down," Rodney repeated, succeeding in pushing his friend back down.

Carson didn't resist this time.

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"What?!" John said, to Elizabeth. "The shield won't come down?"

"No," she replied, sounding upset. "We don't know the cause yet. Radek is working on it."

John sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tell him to hurry. Carson needs them."

"How is he?"

"Asleep when I left. He had a little fainting spell earlier."

Elizabeth shook her head, her anxiety-level rising. "You know we're working as fast as we can. The _instant_ that Gate is able to open, they'll be through it."

"I know," said John. "We'll be in contact."

"All right. Weir out."

John closed the communication and sighed, staring at the gate. _Murphy's Law,_ he thought. It s_hould be called 'Sheppard's Law'. Or, 'Beckett's Law', at the moment._

Starting up the Jumper, he flew it back.

TBC


	5. Homesick

As night approached, Carson's fever rose. The measles rash was quickly spreading over more of his body, and he felt miserable; even his eyes hurt.

The news about the Stargate was shocking. He had a feeling that John had downplayed the seriousness of the situation.

Looking up at Rodney from where he lay, Carson felt bad for the scientist. He could see the worry—and was that fear?—definitely fear, in his eyes. He knew that Rodney was afraid to catch the disease, but he also knew that Rodney considered him his best friend, and was afraid for _him_ the most.

Carson hated being sick. Who didn't? He was so used to tending ill people, that when he was the one in the bed, it drove him crazy.

Rodney watched his friend nervously, seeing the blank stare in his eyes as Carson looked at him. He was obviously thinking, but Rodney had a feeling that they weren't very coherent thoughts.

John came in behind him with a new bowl of water and set it down, watching as Rodney rewet the cloth on Carson's forehead.

The doctor finally blinked fever-bright eyes, closing them when the refreshing cloth was laid on his skin.

"He's getting worse," said Rodney, anxiously.

John sighed.

Carson started to cough again, and they gently pulled him onto his side, to make it easier. When he wiped his nose on the back of his hand, Rodney stuck a tissue in his palm.

"Thanks," Carson said.

Rodney blinked. "Carson? You with us, in there?"

Carson opened his eyes for a second, looking up at him before closing them again. "Aye," he said.

Rodney shoved an ear thermometer at him. It tickled, but Carson stayed still until it beeped.

"What is it?" the doctor asked.

"102.8."

Carson sighed. He wished that he could remain lying on his side, but it was making his nose run. He rolled over with a soft groan.

"Can we get you anything?" John asked. "You need to eat."

Carson had no appetite, but knew that he should obey. He hadn't had anything all day. "All right."

"Anything in particular?" the Major asked, moving towards the pile of MRE's on a nearby table.

"Uh…" Carson said, too tired to think

"He'd like the one I offered him last night," Rodney said. "The ravioli one."

"An Italian Scotsman?" John joked, bringing it over and opening it for him.

"Me mother is an amazin' cook," Carson said, struggling to sit up.

Rodney helped him.

"She cooks everythin'," the doctor continued, closing his eyes once upright, as his head pounded in time with his heartbeat. "What time's it?" he all but slurred.

"Almost eight," Rodney told him.

"Tylenol?" Carson asked.

The scientist nodded and grabbed the bottle, where it sat within reach.

The MRE contained grape juice, and John handed it to Carson, watching as the sick doctor took the pills. "I guess it would be stupid to ask how you feel."

Carson's eyes were still closed as he sat leaning against the wall of the hut. "I feel like goin' _home_."

"Me too," said Rodney, with a sigh.

"I second that," said John. He sat the plate on Carson's lap. "I hope this bug isn't bothering your stomach?"

Carson opened his eyes, blinking a couple times. "No, thank God." His voice sounded incredibly tired, his speech slow. Picking up the fork, he stabbed a ravioli, noticing that they'd been cut for him. "Thanks, lad," he said.

John nodded in reply.

They watched him eat, disappointed when he stopped after four bites.

"That's not enough," Rodney said.

"Yeah, what do you call that?" said John.

Carson looked at them; amused that they were treating him the way that he often had to treat _them_.

They both smiled back.

"Yes, mum and dad," Carson said, taking another bite.

Rodney looked at John, scooting away from him with a look as if to say, 'bleh'!

Carson chuckled. He suddenly started coughing again, and Rodney panicked, thinking he was choking.

"Drink this! Drink this!" the scientist exclaimed, forcing the grape juice back into his hand. Carson fumbled with it when Rodney moved to his side and unexpectedly pushed him forward, slapping him on the back.

John managed to grab Carson's hand holding the juice, succeeding in preventing it from spilling all over him. "Stop it, Rodney! He's not choking!"

"What?" Rodney said. He stopped slapping poor Carson and looked at him, recognizing from his friend's manner that he was only coughing. "Oh geez…I'm sorry!"

Carson patted his arm. "S'okay," he said.

Rodney sighed and leaned Carson back again. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Carson said, drinking the juice. His pounding head called him a liar. He put the empty cup down and closed his eyes. A second later, they popped back open. "The kids?" he said.

Rodney shook his head. "They're fine, we already checked them. There have been no emergencies…some of the older ones who are recovering are helping take care of the younger ones."

Carson closed his eyes again, relieved. "That's good."

They watched him for a few seconds, seeing that he didn't reopen his eyes. "If you're not gonna eat anymore, lie back down," said John. "We'll save the rest for later."

"Aye," Carson said, sleepily. He let them maneuver him back down onto the furs. A wet cloth touched his forehead and he sighed, relishing in the delightful feel of it. Unfortunately, he set himself off coughing again. He held his hands to his head when it threatened to explode. "Craaaaaap," he groaned.

Rodney awkwardly patted his friend's shoulder, not used to being the comforter.

"Is there anything we can do, Carson?" John asked.

It took a few seconds for the sick doctor to answer. "Nothin' I can think of."

There was silence for a while, before Carson spoke again. "There's things I need ta be doin'."

Rodney frowned. "Like what?" he said, incredulous. "_Sleeping_ is the only thing that comes to mind!"

"This virus…if it's a new strain, it might need a new vaccine," Carson said, eyes closed. His voice sounded dreamy, as if he was falling asleep while he spoke. "I'd rather not…wait…ta find out…"

They just looked at him, watching as he fell asleep.

"He's right, you know," Rodney said, nervously. "If a new vaccine is needed, we'd be much better off if it was made _now_!"

"It's too late for us, Rodney," John said. "We've been exposed to it too much already. If we're gonna get sick, we're gonna get sick." With that, he left the hut.

Rodney knew that John was right. With a sigh, he rewet the cloth on his friend's forehead.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, most of the children were well on their way to recovery.

Rodney was outside refilling the water bowl for Carson's still-rising fever, and as he walked back towards the hut, could hear his sick friend coughing. When he entered, he never expected to see the doctor standing, albeit very wobbly. He leaned against the wall, a hand on his pounding head.

"Carson!" Rodney exclaimed, placing the bowl on a table and rushing over, grabbing his friend by the arms. "What are you doing?"

The doctor was obviously weak, allowing Rodney to hold him up. His eyes were too bright, and the fever created pinkness in his cheeks. The measles rash was undoubtedly covering most of his body by now—Rodney _really_ didn't want to know—but yet his face was completely untouched by the spots. "Gotta check the virus," he mumbled.

"Carson…" Rodney placed his hand on his friend's forehead, finding the fever unabated. "You really shouldn't be up."

The doctor looked at his friend, sluggishly blinking his eyes. "If the measles vaccine we've already had doesn't protect against this strain…we can't go home ta Atlantis…" He paused and took a breath, as if not having enough air to talk with. "…until a new vaccine is available, for _them_." He closed his eyes against a wave of lightheadedness. "Or they'll catch it from us!"

Rodney froze at that. "….oh…"

Carson reopened his eyes. How badly he wanted to go home. "Aye." He brought a hand up to tiredly rub his face. "Can I sit down?"

Rodney looked behind himself at the table that housed Carson's microscope. He helped his friend over to it and sat him in the chair.

Carson rested his pounding head in his hands, elbows on the table.

Rodney watched him for a minute, before going outside and grabbing the coffee that he'd made over the fire. He prepared a cup just the way that Carson liked it—cream and extra sugar—and brought it in, placing it in front of him.

At the smell, Carson lifted his aching head. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked.

Rodney frowned at the odd question. "Yeaaaaaah…"

"Jus' makin' sure me senses aren't trickin' me," the doctor said. He picked it up and took a sip. "Ummm," he said, downing half the cup. He placed it down again and looked around, only now seeming to realize that someone was missing. "Where's the Major?"

"Went to the Gate," Rodney said.

"Ah," Carson said. No further explanation was necessary.

Rodney watched as Carson examined the blood samples. He wished that there was something that he could do to help, but knew that there was nothing he could possibly do except make himself Carson's personal slave.

It was fascinating seeing the self-centered scientist acting so unlike himself. Carson knew that Rodney considered him his best friend, and it was nice to know that he could be trusted to be there when Carson needed him so badly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Rodney!"

The scientist jumped, startled, realizing that he'd dozed off in his seat near Carson. Looking up, he found John standing inside the doorway.

"What is he doing up?!" the Major asked, pointing.

Rodney looked at Carson, to see that the doctor had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on his arms. "He needs to make a new vaccine before we can return to Atlantis!"

John's eyes opened wider.

"Well, no, not really," Rodney said. "Or _yet_, anyway. He needs to find out if the regular measles vaccine will work against it. If not, then he'll need to make a _new_ one."

John sighed and ran a hand through his already-tousled hair. "That's what a medical team should be here doing _for_ him!"

"Any luck with the Gate?"

John shook his head. "They're still working on it."

Rodney sighed. "If I hadn't come, I'd already have fixed it by now, _and_ not have been exposed to a new disease!"

Carson suddenly started coughing, waking himself up. He almost whacked the microscope off the table, but Rodney grabbed it in time.

John crossed over to Carson's pile of furs, grabbing the tissues that sat beside it. He placed them in front of the doctor, noticing that his cough was sounding worse.

Carson wiped wet eyes and blew his nose after the coughing stopped. He saw John there and looked at him, hopefully. "The Gate?"

John shook his head. "Not yet, doc. How do you feel?"

Carson reached for the microscope. "Fine."

John balked. "You expect us to _believe_ that?!"

Carson looked at him, the shine in his eyes not just due to his fever.

Rodney chuckled. "Looks like he's stealing all of your lines."

"Now ya know how I feel when _you_ gimme that one, Major," Carson said.

John made a face.

Carson reached for his coffee cup and downed the rest.

"Oh great Rodney, just what he needs; caffeine," said John, sarcastically.

"I need ta stay awake," Carson said. He suddenly closed his eyes and shivered.

"Are you all right?" Rodney asked, concerned.

The doctor looked at him. He was freezing, and he knew it was due to the fever. "A little cold," he admitted, since they'd seen him shiver anyway.

To his surprise, Rodney took off his own jacket and brought it to him, holding it in a manner for Carson to stick his arm in the sleeve.

Carson just looked at him for a minute. He'd never seen just how much Rodney cared until the past couple days.

He wondered if the fever was making him hallucinate.

Obediently, though, he stuck one arm into the sleeve and then the other, zipping it over his own jacket. Touched, he looked at his friend. "Thank you."

Rodney waved his arm as if it were nothing. "What we got for breakfast around here?" he said.

Carson smiled. Typical Rodney.

TBC


	6. Complications

Hey everyone! Sorry it took so long to post this, but I was waiting for this website to fix the alert problem...yeah, I know they haven't, but I knew that people were anxiously waiting for more, so I decided not to wait any longer. I hope everyone manages to find this chapter! Enjoy, and don't forget to review! ;)

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For the next few hours, Carson analyzed the blood samples. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, for he felt sicker and sicker as time went on. No matter what drug he tried, his head felt like it was splitting, and his coughing was getting worse. He couldn't breathe out of his nose, his ears felt blocked and the lymph nodes in his neck and under his jaw were painfully swollen. He hadn't been this sick in quite a while, and it was driving him nuts.

"Carson…Carson? Carson?"

With a start, the doctor opened his eyes, not realizing that they'd been closed. He found himself shaking with chills, and there was a painful grip on his arms. Blinking, he found John's concerned face looking into his own.

"You need to rest, Carson," said the Major. "You've done enough for today."

"N-no," Carson said, eyes closing again. "Not done."

"Yes, you're done," John said. There was a noise behind him, and he turned to look over his shoulder. "Rodney, come're."

The scientist dashed over. "What happened?!"

"He's more asleep than awake. Let's lie him down."

Carson reopened his eyes again as they pulled him out of the chair. Suddenly, an overwhelming fear overcame him, as he didn't see John and Rodney, but rather two wraith instead. "No!" he shouted.

"What the—?" John said, when the doctor reeled away from them. He kept hold on Carson's arm, but Rodney let go, having not expected something like this.

"Get away!" Carson exclaimed. He had no balance though, and fell against John.

The Major held onto him and pulled him over to the furs. Laying him down, he found Carson unconscious. "Crap!" he said. "Rodney, give me the thermometer."

Rodney anxiously grabbed it and brought it over, handing it to John, too nervous to take the reading himself. "What just happened?!"

John stuck it in Carson's ear. "He hallucinated." When the thermometer beeped, the number it displayed caused a rock to form in his stomach. "103.8, geez!"

Rodney's mouth opened and closed a couple times, before he went for the bowl of water and cloth again. He wet it and placed it on Carson's forehead. "What else can we do?!"

John shook his head, staring at Carson's terribly pale face. The doctor was shivering even while unconscious.

Rodney grabbed a blanket.

"No," John said, putting out a hand to stop him. "I don't think that's a good idea; it'll raise his temperature."

"But he's…" Rodney knew he was right though, so he put it down.

John sighed and pushed up his sleeves, reaching over to unzip Rodney's jacket on Carson. "We should get this off him too."

Rodney said nothing, frowning at something he saw. His eyes widened and he snatched John's arm and turned it up.

Three little red dots sat on the Major's wrist.

Rodney sputtered, this new shock rendering him speechless. "Were you hiding this?! How stupid is that!"

But John was frowning too. He pulled his arm away and looked at it. "No, I wasn't."

"We gotta tell Carson!" Rodney looked at the unconscious doctor. "Somehow."

John shook his head. "I'd rather he not know."

Rodney frowned. "But you have the measles! You can't ignore it, you're sick!"

"But I feel fine!" John told him. "Carson is the one who needs help right now. He'll find out about this eventually anyway."

Rodney paled even more than he already was and started pulling up his own sleeves, looking all over himself for spots. "What are the chances of Carson's _and_ your vaccine wearing off? It must not work against this new strain after all! That means that _I'm_ next!"

John sighed, having nothing to say to that, since it was probably true.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later, John took another trip to the Gate, checking in with Elizabeth.

"How is Carson?" was the first thing she asked.

John sighed. "Sicker. His temp is 104. Does Radek know when the problem will be fixed?" He didn't mention that he himself had contracted the disease.

Elizabeth echoed the sigh. "It's hard to say. All I've gotten out of him for the past twenty minutes is gibberish."

John smiled at that. "All right. I'll be back tomorrow to check in. Tell Radek to hurry…we really need help."

"I will. Weir out."

With another sigh, John closed the connection and flew the Jumper back. As he walked back to the village, he looked at his arm again, studying the dots. They looked just like Carson's, and he couldn't believe their horrible luck. He really wasn't looking forward to suffering what Carson was going though, especially since the sick doctor needed care, and he doubted that Rodney would be able to take care of them both…especially once Rodney came down with the illness himself.

The horrible sound of Carson's coughing met his ears as John walked towards the hut. While glad to know that the doctor wasn't unconscious anymore, the sound sent warning bells through him.

It sounded like John himself had when he had pneumonia once.

Quickly entering, he found Rodney holding Carson in a sitting position as he coughed. The doctor sounded breathless.

Rodney looked up at John, nervously.

The Major crouched before their sick friend. "Carson? Are you in there?"

Carson looked at him, shakily wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. The fever-flush on such a pale face made him look very bizarre.

"Atlantis still can't get anyone through," John told him. "Tell us what we need to do for you before you lose the ability to think, okay?"

Carson's glassy eyes roved around the hut, his brain trying to steal the consciousness from his fever-ridden body.

Rodney had to hold onto him to keep him from falling over.

Carson seemed to try to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he started coughing again.

John reached for the doctor's stethoscope and stuck it into his own ears. He then unexpectedly aimed the end at Rodney.

"What are you doing?!" the scientist asked.

"I need to compare!" John said. "Let me hear your lungs."

Rodney complied, though he felt silly.

John listened to what healthy lungs sounded like, and then he placed the end on Carson's back.

The doctor leaned against Rodney, not very coherent.

John grimaced at what he heard, before taking the stethoscope out of his ears.

"Well?" said Rodney.

"I don't understand how he can possibly breathe with all that gunk in there," John answered.

Rodney copied the grimace. "What do we do now? Haven't you had some medical training, being in the military?"

John nodded. "Of course, plus watching _him_ in action," he said, pointing to the unmoving Carson, head resting on Rodney's shoulder. "With such a high fever, I'm betting the first thing he'd do is stick himself with an IV to prevent dehydration."

"But he can't even sit up," Rodney said. "So that means…" he gulped.

For the next ten minutes, John and Rodney tried to stick an IV in Carson's arm. John opted for the vein in the crook of Carson's elbow, since it was easier to hit rather than one in the back of his hand.

When blood suddenly flowed into the IV line, John realized that he'd done it right. He taped the line down and connected the bag of saline solution, looking for somewhere to hang it.

Rodney watched him, fascinated. "I can't believe it."

"Believe what?" said John, standing on a chair to hang it from a rafter.

"How did you do that?" Rodney asked. "I mean, how did you know _how_? Was that part of your military training?"

John nodded, stepping down from the chair. "Yup. This is the third time I've had to do that."

Rodney's respect for John Sheppard jumped up a notch.

"Good job," they heard.

"Carson?" said Rodney, looking down at their friend.

The doctor wasn't able to answer, as his lungs protested the fluid within.

John helped him sit up, knowing that it would help. The heat radiating off the sick man was stifling. "I think you have pneumonia," he said.

Carson kept coughing, gasping for air in between, which only made him cough again. "I think…yer right…_Dr_. Sheppard…" he said.

The title made John smile.

Rodney looked at Carson, shocked. "That's one of the complications that you said can come with measles!"

Carson nodded, trying to stop coughing. He slumped to the side, leaning on John's shoulder. "Don' lie me flat," he whispered.

John nodded. He had Rodney gather things in the room that they could place under the furs to keep Carson in a reclined position.

Carson conked right out after that, his body unable to remain awake.

Rodney watched his friend, concern marring his face at the horrible rattling sound that came from Carson's chest. "This is gonna be a long night," he said.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The night turned out to be even longer than Rodney thought it would be.

Carson didn't really sleep; he coughed, tossed, and groaned.

_Oh yeah, _thought Rodney. _And don't forget the hallucinations._

Around four o'clock in the morning, Carson's fever rose to an astonishing 104.8. John and Rodney knew that seizures could result from a temperature that got any higher than that, and they worked desperately to bring the fever down, even resorting to strip him of everything but his boxers.

"I can't believe we're doing this," said Rodney, cutting Carson's pants off him.

John made a sound that sounded like a snort, as he plopped wet cloths all over their friend's measles-covered skin. "He's had to do the same thing to _us_ in the infirmary more than once."

Rodney paused, his face taking on a devious expression. "True!" he said. His expression quickly became somber though, as he looked at his deathly-ill friend. He suddenly looked at John. "How do _you_ feel?!"

John sighed. "Not too bad. Headache, but I'll live."

Rodney sighed. "What are we gonna do?" he asked, a nervous wreck. "Carson's dying over here, you're starting to get sick, and I'm the only one left! How am I gonna take care of both of you, and what if something happens that I can't control?! To top it off, I'll probably get sick not long after! All three of us will be lying here dying! If Carson is even still _alive_ by then!!"

"Rodney!" John snapped, looking at him. "Stop it! The Gate will be fixed by then!"

"How do you know?!"

John looked back at Carson, with a sigh. "It _has_ to be," he said, rubbing his forehead.

Rodney watched, nervously. "Should you lie down?"

John shook his head. "I can't just leave Carson like this."

Rodney was relieved, because it scared him to think of caring for his sick friend alone. He wasn't good at this sort of thing.

The doctor suddenly started coughing, so they sat him up and had to hold him there, for Carson was completely limp, eyes closed, hardly awake. His body had hardly any strength, making the coughs weak and ineffective. The wheeze coming from his lungs was horrible to listen to.

"Oxygen," John said.

Rodney grabbed the mask, holding it over their friend's face. The sight terrified him…he'd never seen someone so sick in his entire life. "He's gonna die," he whispered.

John said nothing. He suddenly stood. "I'm going back to the Gate."

Rodney looked up at him. "But…it's dark. Maybe _I_ should go."

John shook his head. "There's light, sunrise is soon. This might be my last chance to go. I'll be back."

Rodney watched him go, and sighed, laying the gasping Carson down again, leaving the mask in place. "Please don't die," he whispered, not bothering to hide his emotions for once. "_Please…_!"

TBC


	7. Where's Another Gate When You Need One

John watched the wormhole open, and got right down to business. "Elizabeth," he said. "Carson doesn't have much time left."

"What?!" she answered.

"He's suffering complications," John told her. "Pneumonia. His temp is 105."

Elizabeth was speechless for a second.

"Do they know when the Gate will be fixed?" John asked.

Elizabeth sighed. "No. Nothing they've tried has worked. The shield refuses to lower."

John's sighed. "Is the ZPM working right?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth. "No power drains, nothing. Radek has some ideas that he's working on. He hopes to have an answer at least by noon."

_I hope Carson has that long,_ John thought. "All right," he said.

"John," said Elizabeth. "Carson…if…" She hesitated. "Tell him…"

"I will," John said. "Sheppard out."

On Atlantis, Elizabeth leaned against a console, her face in one hand. She tried to compose herself, before lifting her head and activating her earpiece. "Radek," she said, with a sigh. "Time's running out…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When John walked back into the hut, the first thing Rodney noticed was that he was rubbing his arm.

"Itchy?" Rodney asked. He hadn't noticed any of the finally-recovering children scratching themselves.

"Not really," John said. Since he was caught, he pulled up his sleeve. "It's spreading."

Rodney made a face. The three dots had now turned into many more. "You need to rest," he said. "You don't want to end up with pneumonia too, from pushing yourself too far the way Carson did!"

John sighed, kneeling beside Rodney to look at the sick doctor. "I probably won't get as sick as he is. By the time his rash was this bad, he had more symptoms than I do."

Rodney tried to think back. By the time the rash had covered Carson's forearm, he was sniffling and coughing, exhausted, and not hungry. John looked tired, but wasn't even pale yet.

As if on cue, though, he suddenly sneezed.

"You were _saying_?" said Rodney, sarcastically.

John rolled his eyes, but then closed them when the motion hurt his head.

The sight alarmed Rodney. "Lie down!" he said.

"I'm fine," said John, grabbing the ear thermometer and aiming it at Carson.

But Rodney grabbed it out of his hand and stuck it in John's own ear.

John rocked back, to get away from it, so Rodney simply grabbed his head to hold him still.

"You're treading dangerous ground, Rodney," John growled, when the scientist's actions succeeded in increasing his headache.

"Shut up," Rodney answered. The thermometer beeped, and Rodney pulled it away. "Fever!"

"Of what?"

"100.2."

John pulled away. "Big deal! That's nothing!"

"Yet!" said Rodney.

"Gimme that." John yanked the thermometer out of Rodney's hand and stuck it in Carson's ear.

The unconscious doctor made no movement, aside from the loud, rattling motion of his chest.

When the device beeped, John pulled it away and looked at it. Saying nothing, he sighed and showed it to Rodney.

105.3.

Rodney felt his stomach clench with terror. "This is bad," he said, beginning to panic. "Oh this is _bad_. This is _soooooo_ very _bad_…!"

John said nothing, though he inwardly agreed.

Rodney grabbed Carson's medical kit and practically dumped out the contents. "We've gotta give him something! What can we give him?!" He suddenly turned to Carson, and shook him. "Carson!" he shouted. "_Wake up!_ We need you to prescribe something for yourself!"

The only thing Rodney succeeded in, though, was causing the sick doctor to cough. Looking contrite, he pulled his friend upright. "Sorry, Carson!" he said. "Sorry!"

The doctor coughed and wheezed, leaning against Rodney.

John watched, sharing the scientist's opinion that things didn't look good for the doc. "Carson," he said. "Can you hear me?" Listening to Carson cough made him notice a tickle in his own throat, but he held it back. "Doc! What medicine can we give you?"

Carson wasn't really awake though. When the coughing finally stopped, he was completely unresponsive, gasping beneath the oxygen mask.

"When are they gonna fix the Gate?!" Rodney shouted. "Why couldn't Atlantis have two!" Suddenly, a look of pure awe and enlightenment spread across his face. "Another Gate…another Gate! They can throw some docs into a Jumper, leave the planet, and head for the nearest Gate!"

John's eyes opened wide as saucers. "I'll go tell Elizabeth!" he said. Jumping to his feet, he didn't even make it all the way up before he was back on his butt again.

"Whoa!" Rodney exclaimed, reaching around Carson—who was still leaning against him—and grabbing John's arm. "What happened?!"

John had a hand to his head. "Dizzy." He blinked a few times and tried to get up again.

"No no no!" Rodney said. He passed Carson over to John, and stood himself. "You're staying right here! I'll go tell her!"

John knew that Rodney was right, so he nodded.

Rodney ran out of the hut, running in the direction of the Jumper. The journey seemed both long _and_ short, in his anxious state. When he reached the ship, he erratically flew it to the Gate, and dialed Atlantis.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth said, after getting his IDC. "Is something wrong?"

"_I'll_ say something's wrong!" Rodney shouted. "Carson is dying and John's sick now too! Send medical people in a Jumper to the nearest Gate and get them here _pronto!_"

"We're already assembling a med-team, Radek suggested the same thing ten minutes ago," she told him.

"Oh, he did _not_ have that idea before I did!" Rodney exclaimed.

Under different circumstances, Elizabeth would've laughed at his statement. "John is sick now? Then it _is_ a new strain of measles?"

Rodney sighed. "Looks that way!" he started looking at his own arms and down his shirt. "I don't seem to have it yet though!"

"Good…take care of them, Rodney. The med-team should be there around this time tomorrow. Don't let them die!"

"Gee, I didn't know that I'd suddenly obtained a medical degree!" Rodney exclaimed. "Ask Biro what I can give Carson for this pneumonia, or he'll be dead before they get here!"

The doctor was hurriedly put on the line, and she suggested what Rodney expected: penicillin.

"So I just shoot it into his IV?" Rodney asked, feeling sick at the thought.

Biro was surprised at his words. "You managed to insert an IV in Carson?!"

"Sheppard did. We only have one bag left though."

"Well, get him to show you how, and give Carson a shot every twelve hours."

"Okay, okay, got it. Take that Jumper and _get_ here!" With that, Rodney closed the communication, not even saying goodbye.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Despite his own deterioration, John continued rewetting the cloths on Carson's body. He kept the doctor in a reclined position, hoping that it would help his breathing. The oxygen mask was a permanent fixture now, and John prayed that help would soon come, before the oxygen ran out.

He was relieved when Rodney walked—or rather, ran—into the hut. "They're sending a Jumper to the closest Gate. They should be here this time tomorrow."

John sighed with relief.

Rodney threw himself at Carson's medical pack, fumbling with the preloaded syringes. Spotting the one he wanted, he held it out to John, triumphantly.

Frowning, John took it, reading the label. "Penicillin? They tell you to give this to Carson?"

"Yup. Biro said so."

John nodded and scooted over to the IV, injecting the drug into the port.

Rodney watched, fascinated and sickened at the same time. He hated needles.

John tried to wipe his running nose, but gave up and grabbed Carson's tissues.

"How do _you_ feel?" Rodney asked.

John blew his nose. "Heading towards 'lousy'." He rolled up the tissue and threw it at Rodney.

"Oh, _ew_!" the scientist exclaimed, flicking it away. "Keep your snot to yourself!"

John couldn't help but chuckle.

Rodney scowled at him, before suddenly frowning. He scooted closer, apparently studying the Major's nose.

John scooted back. "What are you _doing_?!"

Rodney pointed, starting to laugh. "You have a measle on your nose!"

"What?"

"Yeah! It's right on the tip! Oh I wish I had a camera!"

John crossed his eyes, trying to see it.

The sight only made Rodney laugh even more.

Carson suddenly started coughing, and they quickly sat him up. He shivered and trembled under their hands, though heat radiated from his skin like an oven. Rodney picked up the thermometer, but hesitated before using it; too afraid to find out the reading…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The night was another long one. Carson remained unconscious, and his breathing constantly hitched and paused. The first time it stopped, Rodney almost had a heart attack. Carson always started breathing again on his own within seconds, but it showed that the fluid in his lungs was building to a deadly amount. They kept trying to wake him up, to get him to cough, but it didn't work.

John, also, was worsening. His fever was higher and he was coughing now too.

"What are we going to do?!" Rodney exclaimed, after failing in trying to wake Carson again. "He's drowning over here!"

John was lying down now, his headache having robbed him of the ability to remain upright any longer. His eyes opened and closed sleepily. "Slap his back," he said. "That'll make him cough."

Rodney hesitated, not wanting to do something so cruel to his sick friend, but he wasn't a genius for nothing. Pulling Carson forward to lean against him, he slapped the doctor's back like a woman burping a baby, knowing that his action could save Carson's life.

The sick doctor instantly began to cough.

Rodney closed his eyes and sighed with relief, though he winced at the same time from the assault to his ear.

Carson's coughs were painful to listen to. Both Rodney and John supposed it was good that Carson wasn't fully conscious; if he was, they knew that'd he'd be in quite a bit of pain.

"Keep it up," John told Rodney, when he stopped. "You'll have to keep doing that. It might be the only thing that'll keep him alive until the doctors get here." He started coughing himself, grateful that it wasn't anywhere near as bad as poor Carson. It set his head pounding even worse, and he tried to hold back a groan.

Rodney didn't notice, too busy with Carson. It didn't take much time for the doctor's breathing to come in breathless gasps, so he pulled Carson back and held him up in one arm while he placed the oxygen mask back on his face.

To his shock, Rodney found two bleary eyes looking at him under half-opened lids. "Carson?!" he exclaimed.

The doctor was incapable of speaking; being too weak and not having enough air to do it with. He sluggishly blinked his eyes at his friend, before losing the war with his body.

When Carson's eyes closed and didn't reopen, Rodney felt his heart do a flip in his chest. He didn't have to check for a pulse though, for Carson's noisy breathing was all the proof they needed that he was still alive.

"Rodney?" John asked, wondering what had happened.

"He was awake for a minute!" Rodney said, smiling. "He looked right at me!"

John smiled back.

"That's a good sign!" Rodney exclaimed, happily.

The Major knew it only proved that Rodney's actions had temporarily woken the sick doctor. He coughed again, watching the scientist. "Rodney…"

"No!" he answered, still holding Carson. "Don't say it! _Don't_ say it…!"

So John didn't.

TBC


	8. Help Arrives!

Rodney continued to force Carson to cough, through the rest of the night and into the day. It seemed to make Carson even weaker, if that were possible. He didn't open his eyes again, but he did groan a few times, lines of pain evident on his face.

The last IV bag had long-since run out. John dragged himself over—literally—and disconnected the line, though they left the port in for the penicillin shots, and in anticipation of the doctors who were hopefully on their way.

John felt like total crap, as if he had the absolute-worst case of the flu. His head throbbed, he had swollen glands nearly the size of golf balls, his nose was alternately stuffed and running, and he kept coughing.

His rash had spread dramatically, and his fever had risen to 102.5. He felt weak and kept falling asleep, though he tried to stay awake in case Rodney needed help with Carson.

The scientist wasn't in such good shape himself. Not sick, just very scared. Rodney couldn't explain why he still had not fallen prey to this new measles strain. He had a headache, but he knew it was probably due to Carson literally coughing in his ear every time he did the 'back-slap' procedure. Rodney had not a single measles-spot on his body—from what he could tell, at least.

As he injected another penicillin dose into Carson's IV port, Rodney's eyes kept sliding shut by themselves. He was exhausted from staying awake tending to his friends. He couldn't even remember when he'd last slept. The good thing though; Carson's fever had finally stopped rising. 105.3 had been where it settled, and Rodney wondered how long it took for the penicillin to work. A temperature that high for so long had to be extremely bad for a body, he knew. It was a miracle that it hadn't induced a seizure

Yet.

It made no sense to Rodney that the cold cloths hadn't lowered his friend's fever. He desperately hoped that the Atlantis doctors would be able to make a vaccine, for this disease was obviously relentless and deadly.

Carson's oxygen mask was almost spent. Rodney was terrified at the thought of the doctor having to go without it. There was no way it would last until the Jumper arrived, he knew.

"Rodney?" came a scratchy, drowsy voice. The scientist looked at John, who was blinking up at him.

"How do you feel?"

"Rotten," the Major said. "How is he?"

"No change," Rodney answered, nervously. "His temp is still the same."

"Hasn't risen, at least," said John. He tried to sit up, but changed his mind. "Drugs, please," he said. The line was funny enough to make Rodney smile if the circumstances had been different. John hated admitting to pain, so his request said quite a lot.

Rodney helped his friend sit up, handing him the painkillers and some water. "Hungry?"

"No."

"You need to eat."

"You sound like Carson."

"No I don't," said Rodney, with a slight smile. "I don't have the accent."

John started coughing, and Rodney grabbed a couple of MRE's. He opened one that he knew the Major would like, and sat it on his lap. John picked at it, not eating much of it. He shivered, visibly.

Rodney grabbed the thermometer and shoved it into his ear, making John close his eyes in annoyance. After it beeped, Rodney looked at it. "Oh geez."

"What is it now?"

"Almost 103. Hurry up and eat and lie down! If you get as sick as Carson, I'll _kill_ you!"

"Stop panicking," John tiredly mumbled.

"Panicking?!" Rodney exclaimed. "Who's panicking?! Oh, me. Of _course_ I'm panicking!"

"Take a nap," John said, seeing the dark circles under the scientist's eyes. "I'll watch Carson."

"Oh, sure. The half-dead watching over the mostly-dead?"

John smiled, eyes closed. "Great movie."

Rodney blinked. "Huh?"

"The Princess Bride. Remember? 'Mostly-dead'?" He chuckled, but ended up coughing again.

"Oh great, now you're delirious!" Rodney jumped up and began pacing, running his hands through his understandably messy hair.

"McKay! Sheppard!"

The sudden voices made Rodney stop so abruptly that he nearly tripped himself. He looked at John. "Did you hear that?"

John mumbled, "Hear what?"

"McKay! Major Sheppard!"

"They're here!?!" Rodney exclaimed. He ran out of the hut, to see a dozen hazmat-suited forms entering the village. "Thank God!" he shouted. "Over here! Hurry up, will you?"

The people—Rodney couldn't tell yet who they were thanks to the suits—ran towards him. He opened the 'door' of the hut, and everyone rushed in.

Dr. Biro took charge, and battered Rodney with questions. He answered as best he could, watching as they wrapped Carson in a cooling blanket. "Will he be all right?" he asked, still in a state of panic, not realizing that he was getting in the way. "You have _no idea_ how sick he is! Quick, he needs a new oxygen mask! He can't breathe without it! Where's your IV bags? Maybe he needs two…!"

"McKay!" Biro exclaimed. She grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the scene. "Calm down; Carson is in good hands."

"But…but…" Rodney said. His exhausted, running-on-adrenaline body couldn't handle much more, and he stumbled the few feet towards a chair and dropped into it bonelessly, nearly falling off it.

Biro exclaimed something, but it was lost behind the Hazmat mask. Grabbing his arm, she shook him. "McKay!"

"I'm okay," he mumbled, tiredly. "Take care of _them_."

Biro grabbed his arm and pulled up the sleeve, looking for spots. Seeing none, but noticing the dark circles under his eyes and pale features; she grabbed a pack and took out a powerbar, shoving it into his hand. "Stay there," she said.

Rodney just held the snack, watching the medics care for his friends. The relief he felt at their arrival was mixed with fear that Carson could still die.

The sick doctor was indeed given a second IV; Rodney was too tired to ask what was in it.

John wasn't wrapped in a cooling blanket, his temperature not high enough to warrant it. He lay there miserably as the medics did their job, not even flinching as one of them drew blood.

The next hour passed in a whirl for Rodney, who kept dozing off in his chair. He craved sleep desperately, but he couldn't do it while unsure of the likelihood of Carson's survival. For the past few days, he'd had so much to do in taking care of his friends, that being idle now was torture.

When there was finally room around Carson for him to sit, he stood and crossed over to his friend, who lay senseless, the new oxygen mask helping him breathe. Rodney looked for the thermometer, curious if the cooling blanket had lowered his temperature yet, but couldn't find it. Turning, he looked at Dr. Biro, who was examining blood with Carson's microscope. "Well?" he said.

"This is delicate work," she answered, not looking up.

Rodney looked over at John, who suddenly started coughing. It sounded nasty, but nothing like Carson's.

The sick pilot rolled onto his side, miserably. He opened his eyes and seemed to look at Rodney, but fell back to sleep without saying anything.

"Biro," Rodney suddenly said. "Is Carson gonna die?"

The doctor sighed. "Don't ask me that." She refused to look at him. "I need to learn more about this disease first."

The scientist wasn't surprised to get no answer. He sighed, looking at Carson again. He wished that his friend would wake up, if even for a second.

Sighing, Rodney shifted onto his side and propped his head on his hand, trying desperately to stay awake. He succeeded for all of three minutes.

The impact from his face eventually slipping off his palm wasn't even enough to wake him.

TBC


	9. Anyone Got Some Air to Spare?

The horrible sound of coughing filtered through Rodney's ears, and he bolted upright before he was even truly awake. Finding himself lying on a pile of furs, he was momentarily confused, but even though disoriented, he instantly recognized who the coughing belonged to.

Carson.

Scrambling off his furs, he made it to his friend's side in record time, watching as Biro and another doctor held Carson up in a sitting position. He was still wrapped in the cooling blanket, and Rodney could see him shivering terribly.

Biro was slapping Carson's back, trying to loosen as much mucus as possible.

It seemed that the sick doctor was finally conscious; his eyes opened a couple times, but the coughing was so strenuous that they didn't stay open for long. His breathing seemed incredibly difficult; the task causing wheezing that would rival an emphysema patient.

Rodney wondered when Biro would stop forcing him to cough; Carson seemed half passed-out.

Biro finally stopped a few seconds later, knowing that Carson was too weak to withstand any more harsh treatment. They continued to hold onto him as Carson tried to get some breath back, before replacing the oxygen mask and gently reclining him back again.

Rodney scooted closer, watching his friend, waiting for his breathing to ease before he spoke. "Carson?"

The sick doctor's breathing didn't get much easier, but he opened his eyes, blinking blearily. Unable to talk, he simply smiled at his friend.

Rodney smiled back, patting Carson's arm. Seeing the doctor awake did wonders for his anxiety level. "They _got_ here," he said, stating the obvious as he gestured with his thumb to Biro. "You're gonna be okay in no time."

Carson showed no reaction to his words, probably not believing them. As a doctor, he knew he was in really bad shape.

Suddenly John woke up and started coughing.

Carson was startled, having been unconscious when John had fallen ill. He tried to sit up, to get to him, but his own lungs protested and he started coughing too.

Rodney held Carson steady, letting his friend lean against him. He looked at John, concerned at the paleness of the Major's skin.

"How is he?" John asked, voice scratchy.

"Not so great," Rodney said, as Carson continued to cough. He looked at Biro. "Has this thing done any good?" he asked, referring to the cooling blanket.

To their delight, she nodded. "Right before you two woke, his temperature was down to 104.5."

Rodney's face split into a grin. "Great! That's great! Did you hear that, Carson?"

Biro hadn't the heart to tell Rodney that Carson's temperature could easily rise again.

Carson finally stopped coughing, but remained where he was, not strong enough to move much under his own power. He shivered like an earthquake, alternating between lucidity and confusion. _I'm so cold!_ he thought. Part of him knew why, while part of him had no idea.

"I know, Carson, but if we warm you up, your _fever_ will go up," Rodney said.

Carson didn't even realize that he'd spoken. He tried to open his eyes and move his head, which he found was resting on the scientist's shoulder. "R-Rodney?" he said.

"Yes, Carson?" Rodney said, tightening the hold on his friend.

"Thanks," the doctor whispered.

Rodney smiled, his heart warmed. "You're welcome."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Dr. Biro made a shocking discovery.

"This disease isn't merely a mutated form of measles," she told them. "It also seems to be related to scarlet fever."

Rodney didn't expect that. "You're kidding?!"

Biro frowned at him.

"Or not," Rodney mumbled. He reached for the towel on Carson's forehead and rewet it.

"I can make a vaccine," Biro said. "It'll be a little tougher, since it's not a simple modification of the earth-measles vaccine, but that's where _you_ come in, McKay."

Rodney paused, the towel still in the air over Carson's face. "Me?" Water dripped on Carson's closed eye, and Rodney hastened to wipe it off.

"You haven't gotten sick," said Biro. "It stands to reason that if you haven't by now, you never will."

That news was a huge weight off Rodney's mind. "Really? You don't think it's just taking longer since I got here later than they did?"

"You arrived less than a day later," said Biro. "So you should've gotten sick no later than a day or two after Sheppard. Even if we gave you three extra days, you still should've at _least_ developed spots by now."

Rodney yanked his sleeves up, still finding clear skin. "You need my blood for the vaccine. So you're saying that if I _had_ gotten sick, you wouldn't be able to make a vaccine at all?!"

Biro shook her head. "I thought you were a genius? We still could've gotten blood samples from the inhabitants of this planet that have recovered," she said. "But I'd rather have yours since they aren't the same race as us."

"Of _course_ I'm a genius!" Rodney exclaimed. "A _tired_ genius." He looked at Carson and John, who were both sleeping. With a dramatic sigh, he thrust out his arm towards Biro. "Take _all_ you need!" he said, heroically.

Biro rolled her eyes. Typical Rodney.

Needless to say, she took him up on his offer, and drew more blood than Rodney expected, leaving him feeling even more tired.

A couple hours later, Carson woke up again, coughing, as usual.

Rodney had thought that his friend would finally start to improve, but he seemed even weaker, and couldn't get his breath back.

"What's wrong with him _now_?!" Rodney exclaimed, holding Carson up as he wheezed.

Dr. Biro had a different mask in her hands, and she removed the oxygen mask from Carson's face and replaced it with that one instead. "The pneumonia is taking a serious toll on his lungs."

Rodney frowned, nervously watching as Carson tried to breathe. His eyes stayed closed, his head lowered, as if he hadn't the strength to hold it up.

They gently laid Carson back against the pile that kept him in a reclined position.

Dr. Biro placed the oxygen mask on the floor, and Rodney noticed that the gauge said it was still half-full. "Why'd you change masks if that one isn't empty?"

"This one isn't just oxygen," said Biro, adjusting it more comfortably on Carson's face. "It also contains albuterol, to help open his lungs. He had asthma as a child, you know."

Rodney blinked. "I didn't know that." He wondered what _else_ he didn't know about his best friend. Once they survived this horrid situation, Rodney vowed to talk to Carson more. Rather, he vowed to let the _doctor_ actually talk, instead of always having to listen to _him_.

The albuterol seemed to help, and Carson's breathing became less wheezy, to their relief.

Hearing a noise to their left, Rodney looked to see John sitting up.

"How do _you_ feel?" Biro asked him, as she picked up the thermometer and placed it inside Carson's ear.

"Crummy," John said. He sneezed and started coughing, nearly falling over.

The thermometer beeped and Biro looked at it before turning towards John.

"What is it?" Rodney asked, grabbing her hand to see. "104.8?! It went _up_ again?!"

"It's to be expected," Biro said. "He's still very, very sick."

Rodney shook his head, grabbing the nearby cooling blanket, which Biro was going to do anyway.

John winced as the thermometer was stuck in his own ear. He sat slumped against the wall of the hut, feeling extremely lightheaded. "What's it?" he slurred, when he heard it beep.

"103.4," she told him. "Lie down. Sleep."

John rubbed his eyes like a five-year-old. He opened them again, blinking repeatedly. He knew there was something he wanted to ask, but it took a minute to come to him. "The Gate?"

"Still being worked on," Biro told him.

John sighed, which made him cough again.

Rodney fumbled with the cooling blanket, which Biro took and helped him cover Carson with. They both hated to do this to the sick doctor, considering that he was partly conscious—which was obvious when Carson made a noise of protest and tried to push it away.

"Hold him down," Biro said.

Rodney complied, pushing Carson's arms down and easily keeping them there. He glanced at Biro, and when he looked back at Carson, his friend's eyes were open.

Carson shook his head at him, as if telling them to stop.

Rodney inwardly winced. "Sorry, Carson…we _have_ to."

The sick doctor closed his eyes, his body starting to shiver badly.

_This is a torture device! _Rodney thought. "Carson? Open your eyes, look at me."

It took a minute, but the doctor did.

"Are you _in_ there?" Rodney asked. "You _gotta_ know why we're doing this!"

Carson blinked, looking confused, the high fever stealing away his comprehension.

"Can't you sedate him?" Rodney asked Biro. "So he doesn't have to suffer?"

Biro sadly shook her head. "If we do that, he won't be able to cough the crap out of his lungs."

Rodney sighed, heavily. "I with they'd fix that stupid Gate! What's Zelenka doing? If I was there, it would've been fixed before anyone even _knew_ it was broken!"

Biro started to roll her eyes, but changed her mind. Rodney was upset enough, why make it worse?

Suddenly, the scientist stood. "I'm going to the Gate, to talk to Elizabeth."

Biro nodded. "Okay."

Rodney took a step towards the door of the hut, before turning and looking at Carson.

Biro waved her hand. "Go."

Rodney hesitated. "He won't, like, die or anything while I'm gone…?"

Biro shook her head. "No. Go; the sooner you do, the sooner you'll be back."

Rodney nodded, and ran out the door.

TBC


	10. Vaccine! But Does it Work?

Rodney flew the Jumper to the Gate as fast as possible. After he landed and dialed Atlantis, the wormhole seemed to open before he was even finished.

"Elizabeth?" he said.

"Rodney?" she answered. "We're coming through."

Rodney's heart did a flip in his chest. "You are?! Thank God! What took so long?!"

Instead of answering, a Puddle Jumper full of Hazmat-clad figures emerged from the Gate.

"How are you, Rodney?" said Elizabeth, who was surprisingly one of the figures. "It's good to hear from you."

"I'm fine, fine; never got sick!" Rodney told her. "Carson's doing really bad, Sheppard's not so great, but Biro is making a vaccine for the rest of Atlantis."

"Good." Elizabeth already knew about the vaccine; Rodney was obviously unaware of the regular updates that one of Biro's people kept giving her.

The two ships flew to the edge of the village's shield and landed, and Rodney watched as Dr. Weir approached him, with two other doctors.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Rodney asked.

Elizabeth shook her head, which was difficult in the Hazmat suit. "The three of you have been stranded here for days, and you've made it sound like it's a miracle that Carson is still alive! I wanted to see him and John, especially since you three can't come back to Atlantis until everyone there has been given the vaccine."

"Oh," said Rodney, flippantly. "I see how it is. You wanted to see Carson and John. Atlantis' resident genius didn't even _make_ the list!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, with a smile. "Of course I wanted to see all _three_ of you, Rodney! But if…" she couldn't even say it.

"I know," the scientist said, quietly. "I know." He sighed. "Why did Radek take so long to fix the Gate?"

Elizabeth echoed the sigh, as they started walking. "A mechanism inside the Gate itself malfunctioned; he had to practically build a new piece of equipment to replace it with. I know it took long, but when he explains it all to you, you'll see that he actually did a very good job."

Rodney went hrumph. "I bet I could've done it faster."

Elizabeth smiled.

Before they reached the door of the hut, they could hear Carson coughing.

Elizabeth winced at the sound as she walked in. The sight of their friend nearly made her mouth drop open in shock.

The prickly slow-growth of hair on Carson's face that always looked so attractive on him wasn't enough to disguise how sick he looked. He was being held in a sitting position by Biro and a nurse as he coughed; his difficult breathing was very alarming.

Looking off to the left, she spotted John lying on his side, his back to her. He started coughing too, and she crossed over to him, kneeling and putting a hand on his arm. "John?"

Still coughing, he didn't hear her at first, but when she said it again, he rolled over, blinking blearily. "Elizabeth?" he said.

She smiled and laid her gloved hand on his head, smoothing his hair. "I'm here, John. The Gate is fixed."

John frowned at her though, blinking blearily.

Elizabeth mimicked the frown. "John?"

"You _really_ here?" he asked, sounding extremely tired. "'Cause, I sometimes see things that aren't there."

Elizabeth smiled through her worry. "I'm really here, I'm not a hallucination."

John smiled and closed his eyes. "Good," he said. It was more like a whisper.

Elizabeth kept smoothing his hair, and after he didn't reopen his eyes, she realized that he'd fallen asleep. Taking a deep breath, she let it out raggedly. If John, who wasn't as sick as Carson, was in such bad shape, how was the Atlantis CMO?

Carson had finally stopped coughing, and Biro was adjusting the mask on his face. Elizabeth walked on her knees the few feet over to him, and laid her hand on his head, just like she'd done with John. The sight of the cooling blanket made her shiver in sympathy, and she gently stroked his hair. "Carson?" she said.

The doctor's eyes remained closed, his breathing very noisy.

"Carson?" she repeated, nervously.

It took a few seconds, but her sick friend opened his eyes slightly. His gaze was glassy and didn't show much recognition. After blinking a few times, they slid shut again.

A knot formed in Elizabeth's stomach at the disturbing sight. Shifting to a sitting position, she continued to stroke his hair. "Biro?"

"Yes?"

"How's the vaccine coming?"

"Pretty well," Biro said, sitting at the table again that housed all her equipment. "I'm ready to test it."

Elizabeth turned to look at her. "Really?"

Biro nodded. "I already had a head start, with the old measles vaccine. It needed some serious modification, especially with this disease's similarity to scarlet fever as well, but there was no question on whether or not it could be done."

Elizabeth was very relieved to hear that. "How long before we know if it works and can be given to the Atlantis population?"

"Vaccines usually take a few days to become effective."

"A few days?!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She looked at both Carson and John. "They need to get home _now_!"

Biro sighed. "I know. That's why I'm sending the vaccine back to Atlantis without waiting…it's _going_ to be tested, but on _us_."

Elizabeth stared, speechless.

"It can't cause any harm, I'd stake my reputation on it," Biro told her. "The vaccine already existed; it's just been modified. Otherwise I would _never_ do something like this." She looked Elizabeth in the eyes, practically pleading. "_Trust me_. Trust me for Carson and John's sake…"

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It turned out that Elizabeth's trust was well-placed.

The vaccine was brought to Atlantis and quickly distributed, with no side effects except the usual; pain at the sight and a little swelling. Nothing that grown adults couldn't handle.

The good news regarding the vaccine was offset by the fact that Carson and John were getting worse; by the next day, it was looking like Carson might soon need a ventilator to assist his breathing, and John's fever had unexpectedly jumped to 103.8, prompting use of a cooling blanket on him too, in hopes of lowering it before he got any worse.

Carson's fever shockingly hovered around 104.9 without dropping; his cooling blanket seemed to merely be preventing his fever from rising any higher rather than lowering it.

Elizabeth and Rodney stayed with their sick friends, never leaving, though neither of them needed to stay. The realization that Rodney could return to Atlantis—since he was free of the disease—made his face dawn with shock, but he was afraid to leave both Carson and John.

John's higher temperature made him agitated, and he hallucinated often while he slept. At one point, the IV had nearly been ripped from his arm, and Rodney had to hold him down many times while Elizabeth stroked his hair and whispered comfortingly; it seemed to be the only thing that would calm him down.

Carson, on the other hand, was disturbingly motionless, until the horrible coughing fits seized him.

Doctors on Atlantis constantly drew blood from the people, monitoring the vaccine so they could let Biro know immediately when it was safe to bring Carson and John back. It was speculated that the vaccine could take effect faster than usual since everyone had already received the earth-made measles vaccine.

Only a day and a half after Biro sent the drug to Atlantis, they received the news that they'd been waiting for.

The vaccine was already working.

Rodney was the first person on the planet to find out. He'd stepped outside for some air, feeling overwhelmed and upset at his friends' conditions. He heard a commotion, and looked up to see a group of Atlantis' doctors and military personnel approaching—

Without hazmat suits.

"It works?" Rodney exclaimed. "It already works?!" He turned and ran back into the hut, nearly knocking down Elizabeth, who'd been coming out to see what the commotion was. "They can go back!" he told her.

At those words, Biro yanked off her hazmat helmet and all but threw it to the ground. Elizabeth gratefully followed suit, and the next ten minutes were spent getting Carson and John ready for travel.

Leaving the new arrivals to bring back the supplies, Elizabeth, Rodney, Biro, and the nurses that had originally come with her left the hut on their way to the jumpers, with a few of the marines carrying Carson and John on stretchers.

"Roooodney!" they suddenly heard.

The scientist turned, guiltily realizing that he'd nearly left without saying goodbye. He knelt with much less hesitation this time, as Cleya—spot-free—ran over and threw herself into his arms.

"Bye Rodney," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

A foreign sensation gripped him. _Is this what people mean when they say their heart melted? _Rodney wondered. "Bye, kiddo," he found himself saying.

"You'll come back?" she asked. "With chocolate?"

Rodney smiled. "Of course."

"Good," she said. She gave him one more big squeeze, and let go.

Rodney smiled and stuck a hand in his pocket, taking out his last chocolate bar. He handed it to her, and her eyes widened as she took it.

"Thank you," she said, with a giggle.

Rodney's smile widened, and he stood.

Cleya waved at someone behind him, and he turned to see that Elizabeth had waited for him.

Elizabeth waved back with a smile, and she and Rodney walked away, jogging to catch up with the others.

They made it to the Jumper in record-time, and quickly boarded it. When the wormhole engaged, Rodney sighed with relief.

Right now, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

TBC


	11. Time's Running Out

Hey everyone! Sorry this took so long. I've been too tired to write! I come home from work, get my supper, get my laptop, and then...zzzzzzz. I fall asleep with the thing sitting on my stomach, lol!

So here's the chapter! Enjoy! ;)

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The next couple of hours were stressful, as the doctors and nurses got Carson and John safely ensconced in the infirmary, and worked on treating their symptoms.

John slept like the dead through it all, which was a blessing, as they were too busy to deal with a possibly uncooperative patient.

Carson was placed on a respirator, after a chest x-ray showed how badly his lungs were suffering.

When Rodney was allowed to see his two friends, the sight of the machine scared the crap out of him.

"His lungs need a rest," Biro told him. "He can breathe without it—however badly—but this way, his lungs don't have to do any work. It'll be crucial for his recovery time."

"Is there a chance of lasting damage?" Elizabeth asked.

Biro shrugged. "He had asthma as a child, as I told Rodney, so there's the possibility that his lungs will take longer to get back to normal. He might need to keep the albuterol handy for a while."

Both Elizabeth and Rodney sighed.

"I did think of something that might help him, though," said Biro, smiling slightly.

Elizabeth and Rodney snapped their gazes back to her.

"We're giving Carson penicillin for the pneumonia, as you know," she said. "But he's not really responding to it. I think it's because this crazy measles strain is interfering, as we know that antibiotics don't help viruses. Now, the vaccine, on the other hand, contains virus-killing agents…"

"So you're going to attempt combining an antibiotic with the virus-killing elements of the vaccine?" said Rodney.

Biro blinked. Her mouth opened and closed once before she was able to say, "Yes."

Elizabeth looked at him, unable to keep the shocked expression off her face.

"What?" said Rodney, smug. "I _am_ a genius!"

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Biro threw herself into her task, trying several different antibiotics. She was disappointed when none of them seemed to do the job, and grew nervous that she would fail.

John was still sleeping, resting comfortably now that the entire infirmary was at his disposal. Carson, on the other hand, had yet to improve, his fever never dropping below 103.

Biro wondered if they'd gotten him home too late to prevent lasting lung damage…or his death.

Rodney sat between the two beds, occasionally heard typing on his datapad, but most of the time he simply watched his two friends; looking for the slightest change, be it good or bad.

It was very annoying to Biro when he constantly interrupted her.

"Biro!" Rodney exclaimed. "Sheppard just moved!"

"Brilliant, McKay," she said back. "People do that in their sleep, you know."

A few minutes later; "Biro! Carson's temperature hasn't changed."

"Thank you, McKay."

"Biro! John just coughed."

"Ya think?"

"Biro!"

"_Rodney!_ Is what you're about to tell me a matter of life or death?"

Silence.

Sighing with relief, she turned back to her microscope.

"Biro!!"

Slapping her hand on the desk, Biro turned around to bellow at the annoying scientist, before a noise met her ears that explained Rodney's panicked shout…

It was the terrifying sound of a flatlining heart monitor.

Jumping up from her seat, she yelled, _"Crash cart!"_ to whoever was close enough to hear her.

Running over to the beds, she found Rodney bending over Carson, holding onto his arms.

"Nonononono!" Rodney was saying, shaking his friend in desperation. "Carson!"

Biro pushed him out of the way as two nurses quickly pushed the crash cart over. She pulled down the blankets, and with a quick tug, ripped Carson's scrub-shirt right down the middle.

Rodney was too scared to be impressed by her strength.

Biro grabbed the paddles and a nurse squirted gel on them. Biro quickly rubbed them together to spread it, and shouted, "Clear!" to get everyone out of the way.

Everyone stepped back—except Rodney—and Biro quickly laid the paddles on Carson's chest.

_Zap!_

She lifted them and looked at the monitor, surprised and immensely relieved when the flatline vanished and a heartbeat started right up.

Everyone watched the monitor, Biro with the paddles still in the air in case the beating stopped again, but it continued, however slow.

Rodney stared, shaking. Carson had just died right in front of him. _Carson._

Biro, shaky herself, put the paddles back on the cart. "Keep this here," she told the nurses. She fussed over Carson for a few minutes, before walking away from the bed.

"Where are you going?!" Rodney asked.

"I need to find a drug that works!" she exclaimed.

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He lifted a hand to activate his earpiece, to let Elizabeth know what had happened, when he heard a sound behind him.

"Rodney?"

Turning, he found John blinking at him. Plastering a smile on his face, Rodney lowered his hand. "Hey," he said. "You're awake."

"Ugh," John answered back. He coughed, loudly. "What just happened?" he mumbled. "Where are we?"

"We're _home_," Rodney told him, shifting his body to block the view of Carson's ventilator and the crash cart. "Go back to sleep."

John blinked at him, preventing his eyes from closing. "Carson?" he asked.

"Sleeping," Rodney lied. "Now be quiet before you wake him up."

John blinked a few times before he coughed again and closed his eyes. He didn't reopen them.

Rodney sighed with relief, really not wanting the Major to find out yet what had just happened. Plopping back down in his chair, he was about to call Elizabeth again when she suddenly ran into the room.

"Rodney!" she exclaimed.

"Shhhh!" he said, jumping out of his chair. He looked at John, who somehow remained asleep.

"Biro just called me!" she said, softer now, as she dashed to Carson's bed. "How is he?"

Rodney sighed, gesturing to the crash cart. "I would say _this_ means he's _worse_!"

Elizabeth sighed, her stomach in nervous knots. She sat on the side of Carson's bed and gently took his hand, trying to tune-out the sounds from the heart monitor and ventilator.

John suddenly coughed, but settled again without really waking.

Rodney and Elizabeth watched him.

"He talked to me just before you got here," Rodney said. "The commotion woke him up, but he doesn't know what happened."

Elizabeth was glad to know that John had been awake. "How did he seem?"

"He didn't hallucinate, if that's what you mean," Rodney told her. "Asked where he was. I told him we were home. He asked about Carson, and I told him he was asleep. He dozed off again right after."

Elizabeth nodded. She looked over to where Biro sat in an adjoining room, bent over a microscope.

"You think she'll find something to help Carson?" Rodney asked.

Elizabeth looked at him, smiling slightly. "We need to have hope, Rodney. Carson will get through this."

Rodney nodded, with a sigh.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The rest of the day passed without Biro succeeding.

Carson's heart didn't stop again, but the beat remained extremely slow.

John slept like a rock, his fever going down a degree, and some of the spots fading.

"John is doing well," Biro told Elizabeth and Rodney, the next morning.

"And Carson?" Elizabeth asked.

Biro sighed. "No change. I'll have a drug ready today if it's the _last_ thing I do."

Rodney remained in the chair between the beds, not even leaving for food. Biro had a nurse bring him lunch, not wanting the scientist to accidentally send himself into a hypoglycemic collapse.

"Not hungry," she heard him say.

"You know better than that, McKay!" Biro shouted, rolling her chair over to the door. "You need to keep your blood sugar up, moron!"

"You have the worst bedside manner I've ever seen!" Rodney shouted back, as he took the tray.

"You're not _in_ a bed. _Yet_," Biro threatened.

"Har har." Rodney pushed the food around on his plate for a few minutes, before finally taking an uninterested bite. He looked at Carson as he chewed, and nearly choked. "Biro!" he shouted, voice distorted by the food in his mouth.

"Whaaaaaaaat!" she exclaimed.

"Carson moved!"

Biro came into the room and over to the bed, staring. "His hand?"

Rodney nodded.

Carson's right hand had drawn itself into a fist, despite the IV's in it. The sheet was bunched in his palm.

Biro reached over and gently opened his hand, checking the IV's to make sure that none had been disturbed. "Carson?" she said. "Can you hear me?"

The sick doctor showed no reaction to her voice.

"Why do you think he did that?" asked Rodney, frowning.

Biro shook her head. "Bad dream, maybe?" She laid his hand back down again.

"Do you think he's partly awake, and in pain?" Rodney asked, concerned. "Maybe the sedative is wearing off?"

Biro shook her head. "It shouldn't be, yet." She walked over to a cabinet and took out a small bottle, filling a syringe. She then injected it into the IV. "If he really was waking, that should take care of it."

Rodney wanted nothing more than to see his friend awake, but he knew that Biro wanted him to sleep while he remained on the ventilator.

"If something like that happens again, let me know," Biro said.

Rodney nodded, sitting between the beds once more as Biro returned to her research.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By mid-afternoon, Biro called Elizabeth to the infirmary.

"Good news," she told them both. "I have a drug to try on Carson."

Rodney and Elizabeth smiled.

"Great!" said Elizabeth. "What is it?"

"I had to combine two of our strongest antibiotics with the virus-killing elements of the vaccine," Biro said. "It fought the pneumonia under my microscope, so I'm eager to try it on him."

"_Two_ of your strongest antibiotics?" Elizabeth said, concerned. "Is there any risk involved?"

Biro frowned. "Well...yes…but it's more risky not to try it." She sighed. "This has become a matter of life and death!"

Elizabeth and Rodney looked at each other, nervously, before Elizabeth nodded.

Biro walked over to Carson's bed and studied the monitors for a minute, before injecting the drug into the IV port.

"How long will it take before we know if it works?" Rodney asked.

"I'm not sure." Biro shook her head, with a sigh. "All we can do is wait."

Rodney groaned at those words, plopping down in his chair between the two beds. "My _least_ favorite word!" he complained, folding his arms on Carson's bed and laying his forehead on them.

Less than a minute later, he was fast asleep.

TBC


	12. Improvement

Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter! So sorry it took so long!

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The next morning, when Rodney woke up in an infirmary bed, he was very confused. _What happened to me this time? _he thought. _And why don't I remember it?_ Lifting his hands, he found an IV in the left one, and sighed.

Assessing himself, he found that he felt fine, if a little tired. Turning his head to the right, his heart nearly flew into his throat at what he saw.

Carson.

Sitting up, Rodney got off the bed and dragged the IV pole with him. "Biro!" he exclaimed.

The doctor came out of a nearby room. "What, Rodney?"

The scientist sat in the chair between Carson and John's beds. "What the heck is _in_ this thing, and _why_?!" he demanded, gesturing to his IV.

"It's glucose," said Biro, walking closer. "I told you that you needed to eat, you stubborn idiot. After you fell asleep in your chair last night, we moved you to that bed and I checked your glucose level. It was too low."

Rodney couldn't believe that he'd slept through being manhandled and vampired. He grumbled at her, and turned to look at his friends.

John's eyes were open, and he gave a little wave.

Rodney's jaw dropped. "You're awake!"

In answer, John smiled, looking amused. "You should listen to her, you know."

Rodney ignored his comment, smiling with relief. "It took you long enough to wake up! I mean, I know you did a few times, but it was only for a minute or two and you usually didn't make much sense…"

John smiled and closed his eyes.

"...and I spoke too soon," said Rodney, thinking he'd fallen back to sleep.

But John reopened his eyes, coughing a little. "I feel better," he said. He looked over to the left. "How's Carson?" He saw the respirator and inwardly cringed.

Rodney sighed. "Not so good. Biro had to make up some fancy cocktail drug to fight his pneumonia." He looked at Biro. "Have you seen any effect yet?"

Biro shrugged. "It's too soon. He's stable though, at least." She walked forward and started checking John over. "Good to see you awake, Major."

John smiled and opened his mouth to answer, but to their amusement, he yawned at her instead.

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John managed to stay awake for most of the day. Elizabeth spent a lot of time in the infirmary, talking to him.

Everyone anxiously waited for an improvement in Carson, but his condition didn't change.

It wasn't until two days later that something unexpected happened.

Rodney was sitting between the two beds, as usual, when one of the machines near Carson's bed let out a loud squawk.

"Biro!" Rodney yelled, standing and moving closer to the bed.

The doctor came running, reaching out and touching a button on the respirator. She looked at Rodney, and smiled.

Rodney blinked, confused.

"He took his own breath," Biro told him. "He's trying to breathe on his own!"

Rodney looked at Carson again. "Is he awake?"

Biro studied the monitors and searched Carson's face. "He doesn't seem to be. I think I'll skip the next sedative and let him wake up, try to see how he handles it."

Rodney winced. Though he wanted to see his friend awake more than anything, he knew it wasn't fun to be coherent while on a ventilator. "When do you think that'll be?"

"A couple hours," Biro answered.

Rodney nodded, and turned around to find his chair again. He was surprised to see John sitting up on the side of his bed.

"You shouldn't be doing that," Rodney told him.

Biro turned around.

John waved. "Hi," he said.

"How do you feel?" Biro asked.

"A lot better," John told her. His hair was mussed up and he looked weak, but his eyes were fully open and he had color in his face. All the measles spots were gone from his skin.

"You _look_ better," Biro said, walking closer and feeling his forehead. "No fever."

John grinned at that. He looked past her at Carson. "I heard that he's doing better too?"

Biro smiled. "He tried to breathe."

John smiled back. "I don't suppose you'd celebrate by letting me out of here?"

Biro blinked. "Let you leave the infirmary? Are you insane?"

"I feel fine."

"Oh, I see," said Biro, throwing her hands into the air. "You feel fine! Well, you _weren't_ fine, Major, and you are _not_ leaving."

John sighed and shuffled back to lie down again. "It was worth a try."

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Two hours later, Biro, Elizabeth, Rodney, and John, (sitting in Rodney's chair) anxiously surrounded Carson's bed, waiting for him to wake up.

The sick doctor seemed to be having a hard time of it; his hand would move, his eyes would flutter, but he never opened them.

"This is worse than watching grass grow!" Rodney exclaimed, impatiently.

John frowned and turned his head to look at him. "You've watched grass grow?!"

Rodney blinked, realizing that everyone was staring at him. "Once, when I was a kid! Didn't _you_?"

John said nothing, shaking his head and turning back to Carson.

Biro sighed and gently tapped his face. "Carson? Carson, wake up. We're all here, waiting to see you."

Carson moved his head slightly, but his eyes still didn't open.

Rodney sighed. "Well, we know he's awake, or he wouldn't be moving! Why won't he open his eyes?"

"He's probably very disoriented," said Biro. "He might not even realize that we're talking to him. Of course, the heavy drugs he's on are probably muddling his mind."

Rodney sighed. Suddenly, he was struck by a thought so terrible that it felt like a knife in his stomach. "You don't think…could the high fever that he had for so long cause brain damage?"

Everyone stopped breathing.

"It's…not unheard of," said Biro, quietly. "But the fever didn't cause any seizures, so…"

Rodney saw the ear thermometer on the side table, and grabbed it. Carson's fever had finally gone below 103 earlier, and he wanted to make sure it hadn't risen again.

The fact that Carson made no movement when the thermometer was stuck in his ear disappointed Rodney. He felt like Carson was _never_ going to wake up.

The device beeped, and Rodney looked at the reading: 102.8, the same as it had been that morning.

"He's probably too tired to wake up," said John. "I couldn't keep my eyes open for how many days?"

"True," said Elizabeth, still watching Carson.

Biro reached over and tapped the sleeping doctor's cheek again. "Come on, Carson, open your eyes for just a few seconds! Please?"

Everyone sighed when Carson remained still.

Rodney couldn't help but notice that despite being semi-awake, Carson hadn't tried to breathe on his own again. Just when he was about to give up hoping, though, the ventilator squawked.

"Yes!" Biro exclaimed, reaching over to hit the 'silence' button. "Carson, if you can hear me, try to breathe again."

Everyone held their own breath, waiting for the squawk.

It didn't come.

"Carson?" said Biro, tapping his face a little harder. "Try to breathe again, Carson. Come on."

The doctor fluttered his eyes again and moved his head.

Rodney sighed, impatient. "Carson! _Breathe_, will you?!" he exclaimed.

A few seconds later, the machine squawked.

Not expecting his 'order' to be obeyed, Rodney gasped, despite himself.

Elizabeth smiled, patting Carson's arm.

John grinned at Rodney. "I guess your obnoxiousness can be a _good_ thing once in a while."

Rodney made a face at him. "Har har." He looked at their sick friend again, just in time to see the blue eyes open slightly. "Carson!" he exclaimed.

Carson blinked half-opened eyes.

Biro picked up his left hand, mindful of the IVs. "Carson, do you know who we are? Squeeze my hand if you do."

The doctor kept blinking, looking at each of them as if trying to decide the answer to Biro's question.

Everyone was torn between watching Carson's face, or the limp hand that Biro was holding.

It took another few seconds, but Carson's fingers slowly curled around hers. It was the weakest of grips, but it was obviously a 'yes'.

Biro patted his hand, smiling. "Good, Carson, good. You're safe at home on Atlantis. Go to sleep."

Carson blinked again, trying to remain awake for some reason. His eyes closed and fluttered as if he'd tried again to reopen them, but then he stilled.

The ventilator suddenly squawked again.

Biro reached over to hit the silence button, still smiling. "I think he's gonna be fine."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson slept through the rest of the day and night without a sedative. Biro purposely didn't administer one, wanting to see if Carson would wake up again and try to breathe.

Everyone was ecstatic; it was obvious that her drug cocktail was working.

Carson's fever didn't lower much more, settling at 102.6. Though that was upsetting, they all know that his body had been through the wringer, and that it would be a long recovery for their friend.

John didn't ask to be released from the infirmary anymore, to Biro's surprise. It had been ludicrous for him to try already anyway, since he was still weak and not recovered enough, but the reason was obvious; he wanted to stay with Carson.

Rodney stayed in his chair, as usual. It was nice to have John awake, helping to pass the time.

Near noon, the ventilator squawked again.

Rodney instantly stood and moved closer to their friend. "Carson?" he said.

But the doctor didn't move.

Rodney called him again, but still got no response, so he sat back down.

John watched him. "You know he's gonna be fine, right?"

Rodney gave a half-yes/half-no nod. "We've all dodged the bullet so many times; recovering from everything this galaxy has thrown at us…our luck has to run out _some_ time! We've survived every injury and illness thanks to Carson, and _only_ Carson. Well, he's not doctoring _himself_ right now, is he?!"

John made a face and looked around. "Good thing Biro didn't hear that. You'll give her a complex."

Rodney rolled his eyes. Looking at Carson again, he sighed. "I just wish he'd wake up and stay awake, and they'd get rid of that horrid thing," he said, gesturing to the ventilator.

"He _will_," John said, firmly. "It'll just take a little more time, and Carson will be fine. You'll see."

TBC


	13. Lunchtime!

John was right. The next day, Carson took his own breaths more often, enough that Biro had to permanently silence the ventilator. He woke up a few times, but only long enough to blink at whoever happened to stick their face in his line of sight.

The measles spots were fading from his skin, but his temperature didn't really change much, staying at 102.3.

Biro shook her head, with a sigh. "This is worrying me. He's getting better, but his fever won't go away, or even drop to a 'safe' level."

Elizabeth echoed the sigh, crossing her arms.

"What do you think it means?" Rodney asked.

Biro studied the monitors surrounding Carson's bed. "He's extremely weak. His body's reserves are depleted, and must simply be unable to fight it. I hesitate to give him another drug on top of the ones he's already on." She sighed again. "We need to break that fever. I think we should try the cooling blanket again."

Elizabeth, Rodney, and John all winced.

"I'll sedate him, so he doesn't have to suffer," Biro continued.

The rest of the day was spent watching Carson's body shiver, though he was thankfully unaware in his unconscious state.

Biro's idea paid off; Carson's fever dropped to 101.5, and everyone was immensely relieved.

The next morning, Carson woke up early. His eyes finally opened more than halfway, and he looked less groggy.

"Hey," said Rodney. "Are you _in_ there?"

Carson blinked, and nodded.

John was awake, and got out of his bed. Biro had told him that he could be released today as long as he took it easy—he was _not_ cleared for Gate travel—and John had agreed. "Hey buddy," John said.

Carson tried to smile at them, despite the ventilator.

"I bet you want to get rid of that thing," John said, pointing at the machine.

Carson nodded.

"Hey Biro!" Rodney called.

"What?" she answered.

"Carson wants to ditch the torture device."

Biro came into the room, smiling at her boss. "Well, look who's awake!" she reached over to turn off the alarm-silence button. "Can you breathe for me?"

Carson obeyed, sending the machine squawking.

Biro hit the switch again, watching him. Carson didn't seem to be having too much difficulty, so she turned to the others. "Can you wait over there?" she said, gesturing away from the bed.

Rodney and John both nodded, moving away so Biro could close the curtain.

John called Elizabeth to tell her the news, and a couple minutes later, they heard Carson start coughing.

The ventilator cart suddenly appeared from behind the curtain as Biro pushed it away from the bed.

John and Rodney went back, Rodney impatiently ruffling the curtain to get Biro's attention, rather than just barge in.

The curtain opened, and they found Biro rubbing Carson's back as he continued to cough. The sick doctor's breathing didn't sound all too good, or seem very easy.

"You're okay," Biro said, soothingly. "Take it easy." She grabbed one of Rodney and John's hands, plopping them both on Carson's arm before she walked away from the bed, over to a nearby counter.

Getting the point, John took over rubbing his back, while Rodney patted his shoulder, trying to provide comfort. They quietly watched their friend, as Biro came back with an oxygen mask and fitted it over Carson's face when the coughing died down a little. She then went into a different room.

Carson closed his eyes, breathing nosily.

"Carson?" said Rodney, nervously.

Their friend reopened his eyes.

"Can you talk?" John asked.

Carson blinked a couple times, his body trying to force him back to sleep. "I'm…okay," he painfully whispered, his voice scratchy after being on the ventilator for eight days.

John and Rodney both smiled, overjoyed to hear their friend's voice again.

Elizabeth suddenly burst into the infirmary, rushing over to the bed, smiling when she saw her friend ventilator-free.

Carson smiled back.

Biro came back with an oxygen tank and a cannula, which she looped above his ears and around his face, sticking the two tiny ends in his nose to hold it there. "Doing okay?" she asked, removing the other oxygen mask from his face.

Carson nodded.

"How's your chest feel?" Biro asked.

Carson's throat was very sore thanks to the ventilator, so he had to stick to one-word answers. "Hurts."

Elizabeth reached over to sympathetically take his hand. "You gave us quite a scare, Carson. You have _no _idea how happy we are right now."

Carson smiled again, but then he started coughing again.

Everyone watched nervously, surprised that his cough was still so bad. The sound of profound wheezing scared them, and Biro placed the oxygen mask over his face again. "This is the albuterol mask," she explained to him. "The pneumonia has induced a recurrence of your childhood asthma."

Carson closed his eyes at the bad news, though he wasn't surprised. "Great," he gasped.

The albuterol helped; his wheezing died down.

"Get some sleep," Biro said. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

Carson nodded, his eyes already closed. It didn't take him long at all to fall asleep.

Elizabeth held his hand, not letting go until she was sure that he'd dropped off. She looked at Biro and smiled. "Good job, doctor. Carson might not be alive if not for the drug that you made."

Biro smiled back, having not expected the sudden praise.

John nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Rodney looked irked. He and Biro had an odd relationship, mostly filled with insults, not compliments. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Anytime, McKay," she said, busting his chops. Turning, she punched him in the shoulder as she walked away, inwardly chuckling at his surprised gasp.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Food!" Rodney suddenly said.

John looked at him.

"Now that Carson is off the ventilator, he can eat," said Rodney.

Looking at his watch, John saw that it was shortly after noon. "Let's go get lunch."

They both practically ran for the door, a nurse watching oddly.

Entering the mess hall, the two friends got in line. John coughed a little, his body protesting the sudden haste.

Rodney looked at him, but John waved his hand as if to say 'I'm fine'.

"Okay," said the scientist. "He must be starving! What should we bring him?"

John looked at the food. "He probably won't be able to deal with more than just soup."

Rodney nodded. "True. But that definitely wouldn't satisfy _my_ hunger after not eating for so long. Ah!" He saw bowls of his favorite jello, and grabbed two of them.

John reached for the chicken soup, picking up a bowl. It wasn't very large. Seeing a bigger bowl full of salad, he grabbed it and poured it into three soup bowls, before dumping two soups into the salad bowl. He shot a triumphant grin at Rodney.

They grabbed food for themselves, and, juggling the trays, went back to the infirmary.

Heading to Carson's bed, they found him still asleep. "Oh," said Rodney. "We have to wake him up."

John shrugged. "He has to eat." Touching Carson's arm, he jiggled it. "Hey, Carson? Wakey wakey. Time for lunch."

Carson didn't move.

"Carson," said Rodney. "Quick, I need a doctor!"

Carson still didn't move.

"Wow," said John. "He's sleeping _deep_."

Rodney reached out and shook Carson harder then John had. "Carson, wake up. You need to eat."

Scrunching his eyes, the sick doctor moved his head.

Rodney jiggled him again, and Carson opened his eyes, immediately starting to cough.

John sat him up, making it easier for him, while Rodney raised the head of the bed. The albuterol mask sat on the mattress next to Carson's hand, so John picked it up in case he needed it.

After Carson was done coughing, John leaned him up against the raised bed.

Carson tiredly blinked his eyes at him, probably wondering why the heck they'd woken him up.

"How you doing, doc?" John asked.

"Okay," Carson whispered, his voice still scratchy.

"We know you must be starving, so we brought you some soup."

"And jello," said Rodney.

Carson smiled, his eyes drooping closed.

John picked up the tray and sat it on his lap, holding it steady for a second in case Carson didn't realize it was there. "Here you go, eat up."

Carson reopened his eyes, showing obvious effort to keep them open. Seeing the bowl that had mysteriously appeared on his lap, he blinked a few times and reached for the spoon.

His two friends ignored their own food for the moment, watching as their friend fumbled with his.

"Oh crap," said Rodney. "He's too weak to eat!"

John moved forward and sat on the side of the bed, picking up the bowl and spoon. He scooped up some of the soup, before holding the spoon in the air. "Open up, doc."

Carson looked at him, blinking incredulously.

"Ha!" said Rodney. "He has just as much pride as _we_ do!"

Carson shot him a glare, or tried to, anyway.

"Come on doc, you've had to feed both Rodney _and_ me before," said John. "Now, open up."

"And _say_ something, while you're at it," said Rodney, hating the silence.

"Like what?" Carson answered, softly.

"Feel any better today?" John asked, still holding the spoon in the air.

Carson blinked, as if unsure. He shrugged with one shoulder.

"Don't worry, it won't be long," John said, repeating back to Carson what he'd said to John once.

Carson smiled.

For the next few minutes, John fed him the soup. At one point, he had to poke his shoulder when Carson fell asleep in the middle of it.

When less than half the soup was gone, Carson unexpectedly said, "No more."

"No more?" said John. "You didn't even eat _half_ of it."

Carson closed his eyes. "No more."

"But look, Carson, we brought jello too," said Rodney. He picked it up and handed it to John, who didn't take it. "Well, _give_ it to him."

John smiled. "I fed him the soup, _you_ feed him the jello."

"What?" said Rodney.

Neither of them noticed Elizabeth standing at the door, having watched for the past few minutes. She hadn't wanted to intrude and probably embarrass them, but she was finding herself unable to hold in a chuckle.

It was obvious that Carson couldn't eat anymore, so Elizabeth stepped forward, interrupting the jello argument. "Carson!" she said. "How are you feeling?"

He smiled at her. "Okay."

She smiled back, and John finally grabbed the bowl from Rodney. "If I don't feed this to you, Rodney will probably dump it over my head," he said, scooping some up. "Open wide!"

"What are you _doing_?!" they suddenly heard.

John almost dropped the spoon, and Carson jumped, startled. He started to cough again.

Biro rushed over to the bed. "What are you feeding him?!" she asked.

"Don't have a cow, Biro!" said Rodney. "It's just soup and jello!"

Biro looked at the tray on the nightstand, which contained sandwiches, potato chips, doughnuts, and brownies. "You better not give him any of _that_," she said. "It's too much right now."

"We _know_ that," said Rodney, sarcastically. "He couldn't even finish the soup."

Biro looked at Carson's monitors, and felt his forehead. "How do you feel?" she asked, when he stopped coughing.

Carson had to shove the oxygen cannula back into place when it shifted. "Okay."

She smiled, not believing him. Reaching for the bed control, she lowered it for him. "Go to sleep."

Not even needing to be told, Carson was asleep before the bed was even flat again.

"But he didn't eat the jello yet!" said Rodney.

Biro rolled her eyes.

TBC


	14. The Escape!

The next three days for Carson was spent sleeping, occasionally eating, and sleeping some more. He'd lost weight thanks to his illness, and his lack of a good appetite was driving everyone crazy.

His fever had finally ceased it's relentless grasp on him; finally dropping to just under 100. He'd gained back a little strength, enough to feed himself, to Rodney's relief.

Carson's coughing continued, and he needed to use the albuterol more than he wanted to. It inwardly concerned him; he was afraid that his lungs had been permanently weakened and rendered him a lifelong asthmatic.

Biro was more optimistic. "It's too soon to worry about that now, Carson. You're a doctor; you know how long it sometimes takes to recover."

Carson knew that she was right. Needless to say, he tried to avoid using the albuterol as much as possible.

The following afternoon, four days after getting off the ventilator, Carson woke up and found himself alone, for once. It was blissfully quiet, but he knew that it wouldn't last. _I gotta get outta here, _he thought. _Before people start buggin' me._

And so, picking up John's tradition of leaving the infirmary before he was ready, Carson got out of bed.

His head swam sickeningly, after having been bedridden for so long. As weak as he still was, he almost fell flat on the floor, but managed to grab the bed and lower himself to his knees. He sat on the floor for a minute, trying to gather some strength.

He really didn't want to move, though. _It's a little late fer that! _he thought.

Resting his head back against the table beside the bed, Carson closed his eyes, unable to believe that he couldn't even get to his feet. _Gotta hurry, _he thought. _Before I get caught._ Somehow, he managed to drag himself up and grab the albuterol inhaler that Biro had given him, dropping it into the pocket of his white scrubs.

Then, holding onto the wall, he left the infirmary.

A minute later, John came from the opposite direction and entered the room, heading towards Carson's bed. He stopped dead when he saw it empty. Looking around and not spotting him, John turned around and dashed out the door again.

Jogging down the hall towards Carson's quarters, he quickly spotted the fugitive slowly walking down the hall, leaning on the wall. Suddenly, though, Carson pushed himself off and stood up straight, and John watched as a few people came from the other direction, smiling at the doctor and asking how he was.

Carson answered that he was fine, thanks, and the people continued on.

As soon as they were gone, Carson leaned heavily on the wall again, coughing.

The sight concerned John, and he hurried over.

Carson tried to control his breathing, not wanting to use the albuterol too often and risk his lungs becoming dependent on it. Suddenly, someone's hands were shoved under his arms, pulling him away from the wall. He gasped in surprise.

"Sorry, doc, I didn't mean to startle you."

Carson looked up at John as the Major pulled one of his arms over his shoulders. Relieved at no longer having to stumble along, Carson leaned against John, grateful for the support.

"Dare I ask why you left the infirmary?" Sheppard said.

"It's drivin' me crazy," Carson answered. "I wanted ta go ta my quarters fer a while."

John nodded as they slowly walked down the hall. "I know how you feel, _believe_ me."

Carson looked sheepish at that, remembering all the times he'd told John 'no' when _he_ tried to leave the infirmary early.

John chuckled, but then he frowned when Carson started coughing again. "That still doesn't sound so good."

Carson sighed, ignoring the wheeze that they both heard.

They reached the doctor's quarters a minute later, and John brought him over to the bed, gently sitting him down. "Need anything?"

Carson shook his head, eyes drooping tiredly. He couldn't believe how exhausting that walk had been. He was grateful that John had found him along the way. "Thanks."

John smiled. "No problem. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone I saw you. Call me if you need anything."

Carson smiled back, and the Major left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Biro understandably exploded when she found that Carson had snuck out. Rodney had come into the infirmary to visit their friend, and alerted Biro that he was missing. She immediately called John, and after finding out that the missing patient wasn't with him, she told him to assemble search teams.

John, of course, knew where Carson was. "Wait, no need for that yet," he told her. "I'll check his quarters first."

"I'll meet you there," Rodney said.

A couple minutes later, John and Rodney both approached Carson's quarters from different directions.

"How long has he been in there?" Rodney asked.

"An hour," said John. "I can't believe it took her this long to find out."

"She was asleep at Carson's desk!" Rodney told him.

"That explains it," said John, opening the door.

They found exactly what they expected; Carson was snuggled in his bed, fast asleep.

Biro's voice suddenly sounded in John's ear. "Well?"

"He's here," John whispered. "Sleeping."

"_Well_, wake him up and bring him back here so I can yell at him," she said.

If there was one thing about Biro, it was that she never took crap from anyone; not even her poor sick boss.

John was glad that there weren't many people like her on Atlantis. "Aw come on, doc. Give him a break."

"NOW!"

John had to take the radio out of his ear. He scowled at it before putting it back. "Doc—"

"If you don't have him back here in five minutes," she said. "I'll come down there with a medteam and cart him back on a gurney!"

John sighed. "Fine," he answered.

"She's jus' doin' her job," they suddenly heard, as Carson opened his eyes.

Rodney sat on the side of the bed. "Boy are _you_ in trouble."

Carson chuckled, before coughing.

Rodney quickly stood. Even though Carson's illness wasn't contagious, that didn't mean he wanted to get coughed on.

When the coughing stopped, Carson snuggled further under his covers.

"Sorry doc, but we gotta go _now_," said John. "She only gave us five minutes to get back before she comes to get you."

Carson reopened his eyes "Figures." He sat up, and they helped him stand.

"Whoa," said Rodney, at how limp Carson was. He pulled his friend's arm over his shoulders, holding him up. "How the heck did you _walk_ here?"

Coughing again, Carson simply pointed at John.

"You should've _told_ me," said Rodney, as they helped Carson towards the door. "I could've bought you more time while Biro napped at your desk."

Carson chuckled at that.

When they reached the infirmary doors, Carson tried to pull his arms off their shoulders. "She'll _kill_ me if she sees me this way," Carson said.

His two friends understood, and released their supportive hold, making sure he could stand upright before they let go.

Rodney watched Carson with concern. He didn't look capable of walking by himself.

The door opened, and the three men weren't surprised at all to see Biro standing with her arms folded and an angry look on her face. She said nothing, simply pointing to the bed.

Carson walked slowly, taking wavering steps. The extent of his weakness was evident in the effort that it was obviously taking him to walk.

Before he reached the bed, John and Rodney had to grab him when his knees buckled. They gently laid him down, and he started coughing again.

Biro walked over and grabbed the albuterol mask.

The coughing fit was nasty, and Carson was breathless by the time he finished. Knowing that he'd just made things look even worse for himself, he looked at Biro, contrite.

She placed the mask over his mouth and nose and crossed her arms again. At the look on his face, she glanced up at the ceiling and shook her head. No one could stay mad at Carson when he made that puppy-dog look. _That expression should be illegal, _she thought. Sighing, she patted his arm and walked off.

John and Rodney watched, shocked.

"How did you _do_ that?" Rodney asked. "You need to teach _us_ how to make that expression!"

Carson blinked, not realizing the picture his face sometimes painted for others. At the expressions that his friends wore, he couldn't help but smile. "Sorry, lads, it's patented!"

TBC


	15. Doctors Make the Worst Patients!

Hi everyone! So sorry for such a long wait! Here's the last chapter! Enjoy!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson didn't try to sneak out again after that.

Biro kept him in the infirmary for three more days before finally letting him go. "I hope you don't need to be told how important it is to take it easy," she said.

Carson nodded. "Of course not. I _am_ a doctor."

She smirked. "And doctors make the worst patients. Right, _Dr_. McKay?"

Rodney, standing next to John, frowned. "Hey! I'm not _that_ kind of doctor!"

Biro ignored him, looking at Carson again. "You're free to go. I have two words for you; eat and sleep."

"That's_three_ words," said Rodney, eager to get one up on her.

John chuckled.

Biro shot him a death glare. "I just remembered, McKay, with Carson remaining off duty for a while, _I'll_ be the one doing your next physical! Won't _that_ be fun?"

Rodney's face turned almost as white as a wraith's.

Carson tried to hold in a laugh, only succeeding in making himself cough.

"We'll be going, now!" said John, grabbing Rodney and Carson's arms and pulling them towards the door.

Rodney could've sworn he heard Biro's evil laugh follow them out. "I'm_so_ dead!" he whined.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson obeyed his body—and Biro—by resting a lot over the next couple of weeks. _I haven't gotten this much sleep since before medical school, _he thought. His cough was getting better and his strength was returning, but his appetite was oddly still suffering, preventing him from gaining back any of the weight that he'd lost while so ill.

Rodney tried to shove food down his throat at every opportunity. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes it didn't; Carson simply wasn't hungry.

"How can you _not_ be?!" Rodney had asked. "You hardly ever finish a whole meal anymore!"

Carson had no answer.

The good part about being off duty was that Carson didn't have to go off-world. It was a huge relief to the Gate-phobic doctor! He still attended the briefings and meetings, and would haunt the infirmary until he was shooed out.

"I'm bored," he said to Rodney and John one day, over lunch.

His two friends watched him sympathetically. "You'll be back on duty soon," said John.

Carson nodded, but then he coughed.

"As soon as you get rid of _that_," said Rodney.

Carson nodded again, purposely breathing through his nose to prevent the others from hearing the wheeze that he knew his body wanted to announce. His lungs were recovering very slowly…much slower than he liked. He'd had no choice but to start using the albuterol in the morning and at night, like the average asthma patient, when he found that his lungs didn't react well to daily activity. It bothered him greatly; he didn't want to become a slave to an inhaler again, like he had while a child.

A month after being released from the infirmary, Carson was finally allowed back on duty. He still coughed occasionally, but it was no longer serious. He was still using the inhaler, and to his utter dismay, he found that he probably would be for a while; unknown to everyone else, he'd had a couple of asthma attacks, thankfully while alone. He didn't want anyone to know about it, but now that he was on duty again, he wondered how long it would be before it happened in front of someone.

On Carson's first day back, he entered the infirmary to see Rodney sitting on a bed. "What's this, now?" he asked. "What have ya done ta yerself _this_ time?"

"Ha!" said Rodney. "Biro didn't succeed, _that's_ what!"

Carson frowned, before realization dawned. "Ya put off yer physical until _I_ got back?"

Rodney smiled. "Yup. Now she can't torture me!"

Carson smiled back. "An' what makes ya think that _I_ won't torture ya?"

"Oh, ha ha, Carson," Rodney said, though his face showed slight doubt.

Carson didn't torture him, but when Biro came in a few minutes later, the look that she sent the scientist could've melted ice.

Over the next month, Carson continued to recover. His lungs eventually handled things much better, and he started to skip using the inhaler at night.

One day, as he sat at his microscope, John came in, and asked him a question that sounded very much like the one that had begun the whole measles-fiasco.

"Hey doc, feel up to a trip?"

Carson gulped.

THE END

Thanks for reading! More SGA stories are on their way! ;)


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